To The Victor Go The Spoils
by Ridley C. James
Summary: Dean finds himself the unwilling leader in a quest to attain a legendary antiquity that may have been the catalyst to his neverending nightmare. To do his duty he may be called upon to sacrifice that which means the most. His family.
1. Chapter 1

To the Victor Go the Spoils

By: Ridley C. James

Beta: Tidia

Timeline: Pre Season Three; Follows directly after the story Temporary Remedy. I suggest reading that one as well as the Prologue to this Paper Tiger.

**Excerpt From Samuel Colt's Journal**

_**October 8, 1849**_

_**Daniel is worried. The case against Cole is mounting despite his attempts to calm the current of distrust spreading through our ranks. There are those demanding vengeance for the incident at the church. The Guardian has been distracted. I fear it will lead us even further into the growing darkness. **_

_RcJSnsnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

The crack of the bullet as it left the gun rooted Dean Winchester in place. The echo reverberated against the looming mountains, returning like a boomerang flung with deadly force. Dean remembered the moment with perfect accuracy. Somewhere in the back of his mind, through the thick sludge of sleep, he registered he was dreaming; but it didn't stop the sensations from flowing as if time had fallen away and Dean was cast ten years into the past, searching for the damn elf.

The experience was similar to how Sam and Caleb explained their visions; like watching a movie you were part of, but being unable to affect any change. Dean saw himself turn to Sam, his voice catching in his throat as he tried to prevent what had already occurred.

Sounds were distorted and sluggish as if an old vinyl LP was on the wrong speed. The visual slowed and he watched the deadly projectile slicing towards its unknowing target in millimeter increments of movement. The air appeared dense like water and Dean could see the wake of the bullet like a missile fired from a submarine.

The psychic turned at the last minute, as if his senses had suddenly picked up on the impending threat. The bullet struck Caleb, momentarily stunning him.

Surprise. Shock. Both raced across Caleb's features and the hunter fell to the ground unmoving.

Breath-stealing seconds went by and Dean could do nothing but watch his friend struggle weakly, watch him bleed out on the forest floor. No one came to help him. No amount of force Dean exerted changed the frame. He couldn't move. Caleb was dying and Dean could do nothing but watch. Helpless.

In the real incident John and Bobby had saved Caleb.

In the twisted dream, Dean tried to put himself between Caleb and the slow moving bullet. He would sacrifice himself to save another. But, he couldn't. He had given his life for Sam.

Guilt consumed him. Dean had already watched Sam die. He had only one life, and he would give it up before the year was over if need be. Instead, in the nightmare he watched the image blur morphing between Caleb's death to Sam's recent demise.

He always knew his life would be forfeit for someone in his family. He regretted he had only had one life, only one deal to make to save one person. He fought to free himself from the crushing weight of the nightmare. Dean pleaded to wake up as Caleb stopped moving, all signs of life fleeing him.

_RcJSnsnsnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

Sam Winchester maneuvered his way through the hallway of Caleb Reaves's New York town house and nearly stumbled over his brother's duffel. Dean had staked out the main living area on the second floor as his despite the two bedrooms in close proximity. He feigned thoughtfulness by offering up 'his' room to Sam. The oversized flat screen TV and 'kick-ass' stereo system had nothing to do with it.

Sam didn't understand Caleb's thinking. The man had received the Greenwich Village brownstone from his grandfather upon his graduation from Auburn. Yet, it still looked as if someone was moving in. The area fit Caleb, but the actual living space didn't. There was little about the place that cried 'home', except for the fore hints of Caleb's personality. A framed black and white picture of a familiar-looking bridge was on one wall, and the mantel over the large fire-place held a few photographs. It had surprised Sam. One of the photos had been of Dean and himself taken at his high-school graduation.

Sam had only been there a few times, but Dean boasted he had his own key. He had no doubt his brother had a hand in the purchasing of all the 'toys', including the state of the art video gaming system and large leather recliners planted in front of the flat screen. Then there was the giant futon. The one his brother was currently sleeping on. Sam grinned wickedly at the thought of his brother and Caleb shopping at Ikea. He stepped around Dean's shoes and shook his head. The place was like a really expensive college dorm room.

The week Sam spent in Vegas with his brother and Caleb was more of a party atmosphere than he experienced his entire time at Stanford. It was an experience of a lifetime. From hotel hopping at the best hotels- Bellagio, The Wynn, and Venetian to the nights they 'slummed' at The Hard Rock. Then there were the various casinos and bars, Sam was still recovering. He was surprised Dean wasn't comatose.

They arrived at Caleb's yesterday morning and Sam had crashed. His brother and Reaves tried to drag him to a bar called Hogs and Heifers but Sam refused. He awoke sometime in the middle of the night to their return and the sounds of an epic video gaming battle.

Dean moaned in his sleep and Sam shook his head. Caleb managed to get an early copy of Dragon Blade: Wrath of Fire for his Wii system. It had been war between the hunters, both determined to master the game and outdo each other. They didn't seem to care if they were driving Sam insane in the process.

His brother stirred restlessly, a deep frown wrinkling his brow. Sam studied him thoughtfully. Dean was the life of the party in Vegas, even more so than usual. He wondered if it was just the beginning. If somehow his brother was going to try and fit every bit of enjoyment he could into what he thought might be his last year. He also wondered how long his brother could hide his fate from Caleb.

If the psychic noticed anything amiss in their week together he didn't let on. Caleb assumed they were celebrating the downfall of their greatest enemy. If Reaves knew his best friend's true intentions, then like Sam it would have been difficult to enjoy the vacation of a lifetime.

Dean's sharp intake of breath drew Sam from his dark thoughts. His brother was struggling against the Red Sox blanket covering him. "No…no," Dean muttered.

Having experienced his fair share of nightmares, the younger Winchester moved closer to Dean. It was rare for his brother to be plagued by bad dreams. Sam often thought it was because Dean held them at bay by sheer force of stubborn will. He let his hand hover above his brother's head, tempted to test his psychic ability to view Dean's dream.

His own nightmares seemed to have disappeared with the yellow-eyed demon, but his psychic abilities were still there to some extent he had yet to fully test.

"Sammy…No." Dean thrashed again. "Caleb."

The uncharacteristic tone to his brother's voice ended Sam's hesitancy. It was not a time to experiment. "Dean?" He laid a hand on the older hunter's shoulder. "Wake up."

_RcJSnsnsnsnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

The sound of his brother's voice called to Dean. He latched onto it like lifesaving driftwood brushing against him in open water to escape the torturous dream.

"Sammy?" Dean blinked blearily, fighting his way to consciousness. His brother looming above him in his personal space was an odd comfort. Since the incident with Jake, Dean couldn't find it within himself to be annoyed by much the younger hunter did. He didn't even flinch when Sam's voice took on a soft consoling tone.

"Yeah. It's me." Sam took a seat on the edge of the futon. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Dean glanced around the room, instead of meeting his brother's gaze. The lingering feeling of grief from his nightmare was still shadowing him, making it hard not to think of the way Sam's face, then Caleb's, looked in death. His hand unconsciously went to his chest where the crushing phantom ache lingered. "Where's Damien?"

Sam snorted. "Caleb was gone at daybreak, bro. He said something about a run and Tai Chi in the park."

Dean groaned. "Just more evidence he's not actually human." He pushed away the images of Caleb's lifeless body and rose up on his elbows. "We didn't finish the game until after three."

Sam grinned at him. "Just more evidence you two aren't actually grown-ups."

Dean smirked. "I'd figured you would have jumped at the chance to go with him-get your Yogi on."

Sam sighed. "Someone has to work in this unit."

Dean's brow creased when he noticed the journal in his brother's hand. "What are you working on?"

"Nothing big." Sam shrugged. "Only the two-hundred or so demons we let escape from the bowels of hell. I've been talking to Bobby. He's still at Pastor Jim's place. He figured he should check out Jim's books for any information."

"Right." Dean yawned. "Those guys."

"Those guys." Sam nodded. "It's not like you and your roomie 'Damien' are going to hop to it anytime soon."

"We're on vacation."

"It's Monday. Vacation is over."

Dean raised a brow at the John Winchester-like declarative. "You're just still pissed we made you go on that awesome IMAX ride into insane clownville at Circus Circus."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Shut up." He gave his brother a challenging glance, playing along with the familiar banter. "At least I didn't lose my lunch after riding the Stratosphere's rollercoaster."

"It was fucking food poisoning," Dean growled indignantly. "A fact you and Damien chose to ignore while you were laughing your asses off. I could have died."

"Funny how that food poisoning didn't stop you from raiding the all night buffet at the casino."

"I had to regain my strength." Dean yawned and stretched. "I couldn't let down all those lovely ladies waiting on me at _Pure_."

The youngest Winchester stood quickly before his brother could launch into yet another speech about the hoards of starlets he enchanted in Vegas. Apparently Dean didn't go for the whole 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas'. "You have any idea where Caleb keeps his books on demonology?"

Dean frowned. "Did you try the bathroom? You know what interesting reading those ancient texts make."

"Funny." Sam shook his head and glanced around the room. "He said they were here…somewhere."

"Try his room."

"I did."

"Try my room."

"I did." Sam glanced at his brother. "I found your Playboys by the way."

Dean grinned unabashedly. "I have some classic issues stashed here. Don't worry; they're going to you in my will."

The careless words clawed at Sam's reserves and he moved a few steps away, distancing himself. He didn't need any reminder of Dean's impending doom. He sighed heavily, and ignored his brother. "Maybe it's upstairs."

He took the wrought-iron spiral stair case two steps at a time, bringing himself to the entranceway at the top. Sam turned the knob and put his shoulder into it when the door didn't budge. It opened with a pop and the harsh grinding of wood against wood.

The hunter was instantly overcome with the consuming smell of paint and chemicals; but the backlash of emotion was what staggered him. Even after almost a year of learning how to harness his abilities, Sam still couldn't quite grasp the psychic sensations he could pick up from those he was close to. Caleb's presence was stronger in this room than in any other. It made him curious.

Sam took a quick breath and entered the space. The wash of morning light flooded the area from numerous windows and a large skylight. It wasn't an attic as Sam had assumed, but a studio.

Numerous canvases were scattered around the room. They were stacked five and six deep lining the walls. Vibrant seascapes, rocky coasts with tiny ocean-side villages, schooners and lighthouses were cast in soothing tones. The images drew you in and Sam imagined hearing the call of seagulls and pounding of surf.

"Sam?"

Dean's voice behind him pulled Sam's eyes from the paintings. He gestured to the work. "These are incredible."

Dean nodded. "His mom painted them."

"They should be hanging in a gallery or a museum."

"They're his mom's," Dean reiterated.

Sam sighed at his brother's disapproving look. There was no use discussing the subject of lost parents with Dean. He moved around the room, his eyes landing on another canvas on the easel in front of the windows. "They're not all his mom's."

The painting was half-covered by an oil cloth, which Sam carefully removed to reveal another ocean scene, but nothing like the work of the late Amelia Reaves. Where she had used light to present the raw beauty and her obvious love of the sea, her son used darkness to show its fierceness and cruelty.

Undeniable talent still lay amidst the broad strokes and intense use of color that sucked the person into the powerful undertow. But the feeling the piece produced was completely different. The sea was captured as if it was locked in battle with Mother Nature. A storm splashed across the canvas in dark blues and steel gray, angry looking and unforgiving. It matched the backdrop of the tempestuous sky above. No ships or picturesque towns were depicted, but there was a focused subject. Something stirred beneath the water, trying to break free from the watery assault. A great winged beast crested the waves, its scaly scarlet head barely breaching its dark prison. A red dragon.

"Caleb did this." Sam traced his fingers over the slashing signature at the bottom. "T. Seaver."

"We shouldn't be in here."

Dean's voice was closer, his brother was behind him. When Sam turned, Dean was staring at the painting. He ignored Dean's comment. "Jess dragged me to a showing of an up and coming artist in Los Angeles. I didn't know it was him at the time…" Sam hesitated. "We didn't get in. It was invitation only but Caleb…" The youngest Winchester looked back to the painting, blocking out the thoughts of Jessica and the memories from the one and only time Caleb had visited him at Stanford. "It was before the whole New Mexico hunt."

If Dean knew about Caleb's brief foray into the art world, he didn't let on. "I think it was his only showing," Sam continued.

Dean was still staring intently at the canvas. Sam recognized the pained expression of misplaced guilt and empathetic suffering, usually focused on him. But there was an unfamiliar emotion lurking in the green gaze -fear. "Dean?"

Dean picked up the sheet and tossed it over the canvas once more. "We're leaving, Sam. Now."

Sam followed Dean down the spiral staircase and into the kitchen. "Dude, why are you pissed?"

"I'm not pissed." Dean opened the refrigerator and studied its bare shelves. "Reaves needs to learn to shop."

"He said he'd bring back breakfast and coffee."

Dean closed the door and leaned against it with an audible sigh. "That would be fine if my brother 'Mr. Studious' hadn't woken me up before he got back."

"You were having a nightmare." Sam took a seat in one of the bar stools at the island. "What was it about?"

Dean shrugged. "Candy canes and lollipops."

Sam winced at having one of his usual lines tossed back at him. He wasn't deterred. "You should tell him about the deal, Dean. Get it out in the open."

"You should mind your own business, Sam."

"This is my business. This is all happening because of me."

Dean shook his head. "Not everything is about you."

"Right. Whatever." Sam decided not to disagree. It would just be a circular argument leading nowhere. "But, I need Caleb's help working this demon problem. Caleb knows more people than we do. He has a connection we don't."

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean snapped.

The younger hunter frowned. His brother was still sensitive to any inference of yellow eyed demon connection. "I meant the cult angle, Dean. And we're going to have to work together. Are you going to be able to do that with this secret hanging over you?"

"I got it covered." Dean made to move past Sam, but the younger man stood up and caught his brother's arm.

"I'm going to tell him if you don't."

Sam braced himself for the explosion. Instead, Dean surprised him by meeting his determined gaze with understanding. "I get that you want to help me, Sammy. But there's no getting out of this deal. Not any way that I'm willing to live with." He pulled away from his brother. "There's nothing Caleb can do. But I _will_ tell him." His face hardened. "On my own terms."

Sam frowned. "When?"

Dean was saved from replying by the ringing of Sam's cell phone. "You better get that." Dean took the reprieve, making a quick getaway towards the bathroom. "It could be important business," he called over his shoulder.

Sam let him go and reached into his pocket to grab the cell. Bobby was probably wondering why he hadn't called back about the book. Sam would keep hounding Dean. The John Winchester stubbornness had its pay-offs.

"Hello."

"_How are the wayward travelers?" _

Sam smiled. "Hey, Mac. We're good."

"_So you managed to keep the two trouble-makers out of jail and other undesirable locales." _

Sam laughed, reclaiming his seat at the bar. "Well I kept them out of jail."

_Ames chuckled. "At least that's something." There was a slight pause. "Samuel, I don't mean to be the voice of doom; but I think it's time you boys head to New York. I need to talk to all of you."_

"We're already here, Mac. We got back yesterday. We're at Caleb's."

"_That's good. How about you three come over to my place for lunch." _

"Okay." Sam hesitated. There was a unknown quality to the doctor's voice. "Is something wrong, Mac?"

"_We'll talk about everything when you boys get here. And tell the two rock stars I promise not to have duck or veal." _

Sam wanted to persist but knew Mackland could be as tight-lipped as his own father when he wanted to be. "Burgers or pizza would be a good bet."

_Ames laughed, but it sounded forced. "I'll see you soon, Sam." _

Sam ended the connection and ran a hand through his hair. The uneasy feeling remained but he didn't have time to dwell on it as a door slammed on the first level below. Caleb bounded up the stairs, lifting two white paper bags to Sam in greeting. "Breakfast as promised."

"Great." Sam slid the phone back into his pocket. "Dean will be happy now."

Caleb looked towards the futon. "What? You raised the dead?"

Sam hoped the spike in his emotions was undetectable and that the hard swallow the innocent words induced was only audible to his own ears. He smiled weakly. "Winchesters are talented that way."

Caleb moved into the kitchen. "Everything okay?" He sat the bags on the counter. "Dean still pissy because I kicked his ass in Dragon Blade?"

"You know Dean."

Reaves opened one of the bags and pulled out three Styrofoam cups. "I know you, too." He placed one in front of Sam. "Soy latte something or other," Caleb announced, "compliments of the Starbucks around the corner."

"Thanks." Sam fiddled with the lid of the drink.

Reaves glanced up at him. "You and Dean have a fight?"

The younger hunter frowned and Caleb held up a hand in defense. "Hey, I'm not trying to read you, man. It's just you have the 'look'."

"The look?" Sam frowned. "What look?"

"The kicked puppy look."

Sam shrugged, taking a drink of coffee. "I was just trying to get Dean to see my side about something." He met Caleb's gaze. "And he was being his usual stubborn self."

"Ah." Reaves raised his drink in a mock toast. "Another Winchester talent."

"You should talk to him."

Caleb grinned. "About?"

"You know…things."

"Things like… Politics? Global warming? The Sox's chance of taking the pennant this year?" Caleb shook his head. "You're going to have to be a little more specific, Runt."

Sam was overcome with the urge to tell Caleb. Sam _needed_ to tell him. He wanted someone to talk to about Dean's deal. The weight of bearing it alone over the last week was wearing on him.

Caleb would understand Sam's overwhelming sense of fear and desperate need to find the answers to save his brother. Sam also wanted to give his brother an outlet. Despite how close they were, perhaps because of it, Dean would never be completely honest with Sam about what was going on in his head. "It's….I mean…"

Caleb paused mid-drink, tilted his head slightly. "Yeah?"

Sam sighed. He couldn't betray his brother's confidence, even for his own good. "It's nothing, man. Forget it."

"You sure?" Caleb put his drink down. "You haven't been your usual annoying self these last few days."

It surprised Sam. The older hunter had seemed blissfully unaware in Sin City. "I'm just worried about the demon stuff…you know."

Caleb glanced down at the counter. "Yeah. I know."

"Which reminds me, I couldn't find that book we were talking about. . ."

"Did you try the downstairs bathroom?"

Dean chose that moment to enter the room, his hair still wet from the shower. "Told you." He elbowed Sam as he claimed the bar stool beside his brother. "Damien's as predictable as the day is long."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you two are like an old married couple."

Caleb reached for the latte he had brought Sam. "I can always take back the caffeine."

The younger Winchester snatched the cup and slid off the barstool. "Not with those reflexes." He jutted his chin towards the stairs leading to the first floor office. "I'm going to get that book and email Bobby what he needs."

"Hurry up. Your breakfast will get cold."

Dean raised a brow at his friend. "How domestic of you, Dude."

Caleb grinned evilly. "I bought Lulu's experimental muffin for Sam."

Dean snorted. The old lady who ran the bakery down the street liked to create odd-assed recipes for her signature pastries. She made amazing blueberry cake donuts, but Dean worried about the secret ingredients she kept in her back cupboards. "What was it today?"

Caleb waggled his brows and pushed a colorfully wrapped package to Sam's spot. "Cotton Candy Apple. It has a clown's head on it."

Dean matched his best friend's grin. "Sweet."

Sam suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs again and both older hunters turned to him with innocent faces. "That was quick," Caleb said.

"You take up speed reading, Sammy?" Dean asked.

Sam regarded them warily. "No. I forget to tell you that Mac called. He's expecting us for lunch."

Caleb and Dean exchanged a look. "Damn," Reaves swore.

Dean pinned his brother with an accusing glare. "Who told The Scholar we were back in town in the first place, Buzz Kill?"

"He called me!" Sam defended.

"There's a reason he called you, kid," Caleb pointed out. "Same reason Jim would seek you out anytime he even smelled a hint of trouble."

"He knew Sammy wouldn't lie." Dean glanced at his brother. "The brat ratted us out all the time."

Caleb nodded. "And made money off of it." The older psychic shook his head in disappointment. "You can't trust him with a secret."

The Winchester brothers shared a quiet look before Sam cleared his throat. "I guess you both should have thought of that before the trip to Vegas, huh?"

Caleb frowned. "He has a point there, Deuce." They both watched Sam disappear below once more. Reaves slid a coffee and donut to Dean. "Probably not our brightest move."

"Yeah." Dean unwrapped his breakfast. "But we have pictures to implicate him."

Caleb took a bite of the blueberry cake and nodded. "Smart thinking." He chewed for a moment. "One member of the Triad goes down, we all go together."

Dean glanced up. "We're not The Triad yet, Damien." He tore a piece off of the donut and studied it. Dean would not see live to see that day come to fruition. Caleb already envisioned it. He was as giddy as a kid at Christmas. "You think that's what this little lunch summons from The Scholar is? Mac going to make it official?"

Caleb shrugged. "Maybe. The Big Bad is dead. Honestly, he's given you more time than I expected."

Dean shook his head. "There's never enough time."

Reaves took a drink of his coffee and considered the younger man across from him. "With more time on your hands Deuce, you'd get bored."

"No, I wouldn't." Dean met his gaze. "I'd do more of this."

Caleb cocked a brow. "More of what?"

Dean gestured around the town house. "Go on more vacations. Hang out with you and Sammy without having to look over my shoulder. Hell, we could go to ball games, to the movies, and stay up playing stupid video games." Dean took a quick breath; his face took on a wistful expression. "I wish we would have done this more often. We should have."

Caleb's frown grew. "Dude, we're the people they make video games about. Why slay digital monsters when we can blast real ones. Our life is cooler than any damn movie."

"Yeah." Dean picked at his food. "Normal is overrated."

Reaves nodded. "Damn straight."

They ate in companionable silence. Dean appreciated the other hunter for being comfortable with the lack of noise. But maybe Sam was right. Too many things had been left unsaid. "Are you afraid of anything, Damien?"

Caleb glanced up in surprise at the odd change in conversation. "Come again?"

"I'm talking gut-wrenching, heart-stopping kind of piss your pants terror," Dean pressed. "The stuff real nightmares are made of."

Caleb grabbed Dean's coffee and sniffed it suspiciously. "Maybe Lulu decided to play around with her special brew this morning too?"

Dean rolled his eyes and took the cup back away from him. "I'm serious, man."

"Okay." Reaves looked puzzled and amused. He put down the last piece of his donut and dusted his hands together. "You know me. I'm fearless."

Dean snorted. "Right, Little Miss Muffet."

Caleb pointed a finger at the younger hunter. "Hey, spiders are not a fear. They're more like a big annoyance."

The younger hunter's mouth twitched. "An annoyance that makes you scream like a girl."

"Do you really want to get into this little competition? You who made us _drive_ to Vegas instead of flying first class in Cullen's private jet."

Dean shrugged. "The most important part of the journey is getting there, Dude."

Caleb laughed. "Between your music, impromptu singing, and Sam's pit stops, I could have lived without the momentous road trip."

"What about water?"

Caleb's smile disappeared and Dean almost felt bad. His friend looked a little like Dean had sucker punched him. "I hate the water. There's a difference." He met Dean's questioning gaze. "Where the hell is all this coming from, Kid? All the late nights finally getting to you? Or did you and Sammy do some kind of Freaky Friday body switch?"

"Forget it." Dean wadded up the remains of his breakfast and made to stand up. "I guess a normal conversation is too much to ask for."

Caleb caught his arm and stopped him. "No. It's just not really _normal _for you to want to have a conversation." He gripped his friend's forearm. "Sit your ass back down, Deana."

Dean complied but grumbled an obscenity under his breath. When he was younger he'd been able to talk to Caleb about things, but those times had dwindled away over the years. Dean, like his father, had closed himself off from the other hunters in their close-knit circle. "It's not important."

The look on Caleb's face told Dean the older hunter didn't believe him. "Deuce, if you're waiting for me to read you, we're going to miss Mac's meeting. I can't get more than your presence and vague feelings from you since the whole incident in Tennessee."

They had this discussion before. Caleb was frustrated he had lost the ability to read the younger man. Dean didn't tell him about the writing inside his ring or the visit from the Lady in the pond. He wasn't sure why; but he was positive the timing wasn't a coincidence. "Can't say I'm upset about that."

"Enjoy the privacy, but if you want me to know something now, you're going to have to spell it out."

"What happened to the whole 'old married couple' bit?"

Caleb snorted. "I've yet to meet one damn woman I could figure out without using my abilities."

"You calling me a bitch?"

"A whiny bitch." Caleb grinned to take the sting out of the slam. "Now talk to me so we can get one more round of Dragon Blade in before meeting with Dad."

Dean started to open his mouth when the familiar tune of 'Freebird' interrupted. It was Bobby's ring and Dean sighed knowing the real world had definitely found them. "Sam jacked his jaw to everybody, huh?"

Caleb laughed. "Funny how he's super hunter now, isn't it? Following in big brother's footsteps."

"Everybody wants to be Dean," the younger hunter said before answering the call. "Bobby."

"Yeah." Caleb rolled his eyes and removed the leftovers from the counter. "It's amazing you don't have your own action figure," he muttered.

Dean flipped him off. "A trading card would be nice." Bobby's voice boomed through the phone and Dean cleared his throat, speaking into the cell this time. "Yeah I'm here." He groaned at the beginning of a lecture. "I'm not fooling around, man."

Caleb dumped their trash and turned to face Dean again. He pantomimed stabbing himself in the heart and Dean barely controlled his laughter. "Tell him his hero Elvis is alive, well and living the American dream in Vegas."

Dean didn't get a chance as Singer continued informing him of what had taken place while they were gone. "Why aren't you telling this to Sammy? I thought you two were working on a great plan or something."

As if mention of his name had summoned him, the youngest Winchester found his way back into the kitchen. "Who's he talking to?" He asked Caleb.

"Bobby." Reaves gestured to the muffin on the counter. "Don't forget your breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day."

Dean completely tuned the mechanic out as he watched Sam unwrap the pastry. He had to give his brother credit. The kid totally schooled his features when he peeled away the paper to reveal the garish red and white clown face painted with icing. "Thanks, dick head," Sam said, glaring at Caleb as he tore away Bozo's face and crammed it in his mouth.

Caleb grinned. "You're welcome, my little Pennywise."

Dean's focus was brought quickly brought back to Singer. "I'm sorry; can you repeat that, Bobby? Yeah, yeah, I'm paying attention." Dean pursed his lips and took a step back to try to gain some privacy.

Sam gave his brother a questioning look. Dean waved his hand.

"Damn." Dean rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, Bobby, I know I have to tell them." He glanced at Caleb.

Reaves mouthed the word 'What?', and then gestured for the phone. "You want me to talk to him?"

Dean shook his head. "I said I would tell them, Bobby. I know how you feel. " Dean looked down at this boots. "Thanks, you know, I'll call you back afterwards."

Dean closed his phone, and let his hand rest on it for a moment. He hated being placed in the position to give bad news, but Bobby didn't give him any choice. Singer was forcing his hand. Dean met Caleb's questioning gaze. "I have something to tell you that you're not going to like."

"What did Singer get us into now? You should have told him we had lunch plans with Mac. . ." Caleb began until Dean interrupted.

"Seriously, Dude, you may want to sit down." Dean wiped a hand down his mouth. "Sam, you too."

The other hunters looked at each other and then did what Dean asked.

"Go on, Dean," Sam urged his brother.

Dean swallowed, searching for the words. "That was Bobby." He repeated the obvious, feeling completely foolish. "He's been researching in The Hunter's Tomb to see if Jim had anything that would help with all the demons. . ."

"And he found something?" Caleb asked. "Dude, what is it? Why all the mystery?"

Dean closed his eyes. "He found something. . ."

"Why didn't he call me about it?" Sam interrupted. "I just talked to him, and he didn't mention anything."

Dean crossed his arms. Both hunters were making a difficult situation worse. "Sammy, he didn't want to tell you. He found Scout. Thought she was just sleeping, but she's gone."

"Scout?" Caleb choked out.

"No way. We just saw her. . . ." Sam had a faraway expression on his face.

"I'm sorry, man." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. Sam rested his forehead against his hand. Caleb's eyes had filled up. He wiped away the tears when he noticed Dean looking at him.

Dean felt the lump in his throat grow too. The dog was the last link to Jim Murphy. Harper Lee was still there, but the beagle hadn't been around when they were kids-not like Scout. She was tied to everything that meant family. Dean sat down as Caleb got up and opened the kitchen cupboard. He pulled out a bottle of half filled Southern Comfort, and poured out three neat shot glasses. He placed the drink in front of each of them.

The hunters quickly downed the burning liquid. Dean coughed, then looked at his brother and best friend. Tears tracked their faces, and Dean felt the wetness on his own cheek. He started laughing.

Sam looked horrified at the reaction as did Caleb for a moment before he started to join in, then finally Sam.

"We didn't cry this much for Dad." Dean said between gasping chuckles, and it made them only laugh harder.

"Johnny said Old Yeller really got to him, so I think he'd understand." Caleb wiped down his face .

"Yeah, and Scout was a great dog. The best a boy could have. " Sam replied. "She was always up for anything."

"The mutt sure kept Jim on his toes."

"She wasn't a mutt," Sam defended, his mouth twitching at the familiar argument. "She was a Black Labrador-best hunting dog around."

Caleb refilled their glasses and raised his in toast. "To Scout, a hunter's best friend."

Dean nodded. "I'm sure she's lazing in the sun with Atticus and Jim as we speak."

"We'll see her again." Caleb fingered the rim of his shot glass. "We'll see all of them again."

The brother's exchanged a quick look and then glanced to Reaves. "What? I believe in an afterlife." He brushed the revelation off with a familiar smirk. "And hey, if Johnny gets to go to the good place of eternal fishing trips, apple pie and sweet tea, I know _we're_ all set."

Sam looked at his brother. A pained look that had nothing to do with their most recent loss crossed his features. "I still couldn't find that book, man."

Caleb groaned theatrically. "Damn, Sammy. Super psychic you're not." He looked at Dean again, his face sobering. "You okay, Deuce?"

Dean nodded. "I will be. Go find the kid his security blanket before he throws a tantrum."

Sam waited until they were alone. "Tell him Dean. Just go down stairs and get it over with."

Dean shook his head. "Not now. Not after this."

"It's not going to get any easier."

"You're right. So why rush?" Dean tossed back the shot of whiskey. "Nothing's going to change." He met Sam's gaze. "I still have 357 days to deliver that piece of bad news."

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A/N: Okay. First, I have to tell you it was hard to let Scout go. Not only was she named after a character in Jim's favorite book, she was named after one of the best dogs I ever had. My Scout was a goofy big black lab with a heart of gold. I didn't have him as near as long as I let Sammy's Scout live, but I will always remember him. I couldn't even write the conversation with Bobby. That was Tidia. So a big thanks to her. But on a very ironic twist, I just found an 80 pound abandoned black Lab puppy on the rail road tracks a few weeks back. He has now taken up permanent residency at my house. I named him Sammy. He likes to destroy lawn chairs, steal from the neighbors, and carry around baby dolls that belong to the two-year-old princess that runs the place. Pretty much makes him a keeper in my book. So…just a hint, when things look the bleakest, there's usually an unexpected surprise waiting around the corner.

I will try to post at least every other week on this story. It is a long and complex tale. There's a lot going on and a lot of things will hopefully be tied up. To answer some of your awesome questions, I'm not sure where The Brotherhood is going to stand on the way Season Three is going. As you know we started our own 'Witch' twist several stories ago and the covens play an important part in our story arch. Tidia already has a story concerning that and we're just not certain about how it will tie in or if it will at all with what the show is doing. Even though we're an AU we really try to keep strong threads to the show. So, it may become interesting. We want to keep our focus on the boys and their battle, not so much all this new story arch being spun about the new characters. Speaking of that….Tidia came up with a wonderful idea to help get that point across.

We thought it would be really fun and "POSITIVE" to send 'Brother' cards to the powers that be…meaning Kripke. All sorts of 'Brother' cards. Birthday ones, Funny Ones, Halloween or Christmas Ones. As long as they are for a brother! It is a wonderful way to express why we love the show, how we want more of the 'brothers' focused on. It is giving a shout out to the creator in a very creative way-reminding him of why we fell in love with his work in the first place. No matter how you feel about the new season, whether a Sam girl or a Dean chick, we can all agree…we love the boys.

And it's fun! I had a really good time trying to pick cards that Dean would send Sam and vice versa. Let me tell you some of them were spooky how well they fit. So send a couple, remind Kripke of what brought us to love the show. You don't have to say anything. We have the addresses posted at Thehunterstomb! Link it to your sites, mention it on your stories. It could be as big as the whole postcard thing we did last year.

And last but not least…thank you so much for reading. I look forward to any comments!-Rid


	2. Chapter 2 Part A

To The Victor Go the Spoils

By: Ridley

Beta: Tidia

A/N: First off, this chapter is broken into two parts. Chapter Two- Part B will be posted within the week. It just got too big to go up all at once. This part nearly taxed my poor beta and trust me it took hours for her to look at it; then hours for me to accept what she was saying was true(grin). Anyway, she made this part much better. Trust me. We work really hard to find mistakes and grammatical errors. I really appreciate the helpful reviews that point out ones we miss. But all left over errors are mine. I do read throughs and spell check but there is only so many hours in the day. Secondly, there is a lot of conversation in this part. But it is all important. I know this may seem like a slow build up; but I so hope it will be a huge payoff in the end. If you pay close attention there are some hints and some surprises. I promise that Caleb will find out Dean's secret. All the boys have to face their _demons_ in this story. They will come out changed in the end…if they all make it to the end..Bahhahahahahah (Insert Ridley's best Halloween-inspired laugh) Last but not least a thank you to Tara for the preview read she did and to all those who were so kind and took the time to review the first chapter. Wow. That's all I can say. I hope I don't disappoint you. Now, on with the story. Thanks for your patience.

RcJSnsnsnsnsnsnsNRcJ

_**Excerpt from Samuel Colt's journal-**_

_**Oct 26, 1840-Dissent is growing. I have tried to be the voice of reason; but my tenuous control is slipping. Daniel fears some of the others, once trusted friends, are planning a coup. Cole plans retaliation instead of discretion, but it will only lead to his bloodshed. Daniel will make the ultimate sacrifice before he allows The Knight to be hurt. The possible threat of what was released by Noah Seaver is of secondary importance. I worry we are spiraling out of control. Our many enemies wait. The storm is on the horizon. **_

Mackland Ames had faced many horrors, which sent lesser men running in a panic-driven hysteria. He could withstand the aftereffects of evil, and the dreaded task of informing distraught family members of their loved one's demise, which was the emotional equivalent of being drawn and quartered.

But, he could not stand to see a woman cry.

Perhaps it was a common male weakness. The shedding of tears and small interspersed hiccups felt like nails against a chalkboard. He was thankful he was unable to read emotions as the encounter with Carolyn Sullivan would have been twice as anxiety provoking.

As it was, Mackland was at his whit's end. He wondered if it was too late to reach Esme. Perhaps she hadn't made it to the airport. It was sexist, of course, but she could offer a gentler touch to the situation. In fact, Mackland should have convinced her to stay and deliver the news woman to woman. She and Carolyn could sit down to a hot cup of tea to commiserate on the sad state of the opposite sex. At least Alison Daughtery was there to translate.

She wasn't one of Mackland's biggest fans. He was quite sure she was the ringleader in the latest memo he received about the unequal treatment of women in The Brotherhood. But she was levelheaded, talented at her job, loyal to their cause and to Carolyn.

The doctor had never realized distraught females spoke a different language. Even working in the field of psychiatry had not prepared him for the unfortunate incident of a woman scorned. Carolyn was an incredibly intelligent and competent member of his research staff. She was well-mannered, congenial, and very sweet. She was also very calm and steadfast. Qualities Mackland admired. But now, in the middle of his living room, Carolyn had quite literally decompressed. She was a mess.

Her light brown hair was disheveled. Her typical professional attire was rumpled. Carolyn's face, which was usually very pleasant and demurely understated, resembled something out of a horror film, long streaks of black stretched from her red-rimmed eyes to her chin. Mackland never understood make-up.

Ames ran a hand through his hair. "Should I get her a sedative?"

Alison gave him a look of incredulity, pulled a tissue from her purse and pressed into one of Carolyn's trembling hands. "I don't think that's necessary, Dr. Ames," she said. Mackland was quite positive she was thinking 'You've got to be kidding me.'

Carolyn said something through the hands now pressed over her face and Mackland strained to make out the garbled declarative. "I….I'm….I…"

Alison crouched in front of her friend who was sitting on the leather sofa and then glanced up at Ames. "She says she's sorry. She didn't know what he was after."

"He…He…" Carolyn stuttered, through intermittent sobs. "And then…"

Alison patted her friend's arm, and then shifted back on the sofa next to her friend. "He told her he loved her. That she was the only person who understood him."

Carolyn's slight frame shook. "And…you….he…"

Alison turned her eyes on Mackland. "You should know how stressful our job is. The demands, the deadlines. It's rare when someone shows us praise and appreciation. _Especially_ a hunter in the field. We rarely get the consideration that we should…nor do we get a ring for our trouble."

Carolyn had stopped crying and stared at her friend. Alison glanced at her. "Well, it's true."

Mackland sighed. "I'm not blaming Carolyn for this incident, Alison." After taking it upon himself to give Carolyn the bad news about her boyfriend, Ian, she delivered some of her own. Carolyn had found Ian going through her work files on her personal computer. He had downloaded files. At the time, she thought nothing of it. Ian explained it away as research for an upcoming job. It was research. Mackland now knew how Griffin discovered the location of Samuel Colt's journal. "Tell her there's no need to apologize. I just need to know what happened." His lips thinned. "Did she ever discuss Samuel Colt with Ian?"

Alison frowned and turned back to the distraught woman. "Carolyn?"

Carolyn's face crumbled. "He found it interesting," she howled, before covering her face in shame once more. Through the resumed tears, Mackland made out the next statement. "No one said it was top secret."

Alison glanced up at Mackland with a challenging look. "He _is_ a member of The Brotherhood. He wears the same ring as you."

"I'm not accusing her of espionage, Alison."

"Oh God," Carolyn moaned. "Does this mean I'm going to be fired? I think I'm going to be sick."

"You're not being fired, Carolyn." The sound of a door opening and laughing voices halted Mackland's denial. "I'm sorry, but that must be my son and the Winchesters. I invited them for lunch before I knew you two were dropping by."

"Wonderful." Alison breathed. "Abercrombie, Fitch, & J.Crew."

Carolyn straightened, sniffing loudly as she clasped a hold of her friend's hand. "Alison," she hissed. "The Triad."

"It's alright," Mackland assured. "Really."

"Dad?" Caleb called out as he, Sam and Dean entered the spacious area.

"Told you I smelled perfume." Dean elbowed his brother, his eyes going to the two unfamiliar women and then to Mackland. "I'm never wrong about it. It's like my own personal sixth sense."

"I'll be right with you boys." Mac inclined his head to Carolyn. "Caleb, why don't you fix us all a drink?"

Alison glanced across the room to where the hunters were watching the scene with amused, curious looks. She met Caleb's gaze. "A glass of Merlot, please."

Mackland waited to continue the conversation until the boys were in the next room, but Alison spoke up first.

"What would you like us to do next?"

Mackland had an opportunity to think for a moment of the damage control this situation needed as Sam came to bring them their drinks. He gave a small smile to the younger hunter. The older boys must have pulled rank. "Thank you, Samuel."

Sam quickly backed out of the room to the safety of Caleb and his brother.

Mackland took a drink of his scotch and soda. "Contain the situation, limit information distribution until I tell you."

Carolyn nodded as she sniffed. "Yes, Sir."

Ames reached out to pat her leg, and then hesitated, feeling completely awkward. The doctor heard the door open again.

"Mackland?"

Ames recognized the voice. "We're in here, Joshua," Mackland called out.

Carolyn let out a moan that resembled that of a wounded animal. "Oh God! Alison!"

"Maybe we should go." Alison stood. "Are you finished with us, Dr. Ames?"

Joshua Sawyer strode purposefully into the room like a man on a mission, pausing to give a slightly annoyed glance to Caleb and the Winchesters before zeroing in on Mackland. "I'm here per your request but I don't…" The words died on his lips as he seemed to notice the other occupants of the room. "Carolyn?"

Mackland immediately noticed the difference between Dean, Sam, and Caleb and Joshua. The blond had been raised by women- his mother and grandmother, and because of this he easily made his way towards the distraught woman instead of shirking back to the sidelines. Mackland had to commend Esme. "Are you alright?" Joshua asked.

"I'm fine." Carolyn smoothed down the wrinkles in her skirt. She quickly wiped at her eyes, succeeding only in making more of a mess. "Everything's fine, Joshua."

"Perhaps you could escort the ladies out, Joshua," Mackland suggested, giving him an opportunity to talk to the boys. "Make sure they safely acquire a cab."

"No, no, that's okay," Carolyn stuttered as she stood up. She wobbled a bit, and Joshua placed a steadying hand on her arm. "We'll be fine. Joshua just got here."

"So he won't mind escorting you down," Mackland insisted. "It's the gentlemanly thing to do."

Sawyer glanced around the room again, and then turned a charming smile to the women. "And I would definitely be the only one to fulfill that mandate."

Carolyn actually smiled. "Okay...if you're sure."

Joshua held out his arm. "I am."

"And Joshua if you would be so kind as to wait in the lobby for a delivery. I'm expecting our lunch." Mackland added, relieved Alison and Carolyn were leaving.

Ames noticed Sawyer clenched his jaw, but answered with another tight smile. "Of course. I'll even treat."

Mackland smiled back. "That's very kind of you."

The doctor escorted them to the door, the Winchesters and Caleb near the exit. Mackland was leading the way. Joshua had Carolyn holding onto to the bend in his elbow and Alison followed. Mackland had the door open, but noticed no one was behind him.

Alison had paused in front of Caleb, Dean and Sam. "You're Dean Winchester."

"Yeah." Dean gave her his most winning grin. "You've heard of me?"

Alison smiled and offered her hand. "Oh yes. And you'll be hearing from me, Dean." She returned Dean's firm shake. "I'm Alison Daugherty."

Mackland crossed his arms, watching the exchange. He was uncomfortable with Alison addressing Dean , knowing she was doing so because of his position of the future Guardian. No one was supposed to acknowledge the inevitable just yet.

"That's good. I look forward to it, Alison." Dean stated.

Alison glanced over at Mackland then returned her gaze to Dean. "I'm glad you feel that way. It's time for a new order. Don't you think?"

"Right. New order." Dean repeated, but Mackland knew he had no idea as to what Alison was referring to, and in this meeting he was going to rectify that situation before Alison sent Dean a memo.

"I look forward to talking with you about it then." Alison gave him a quick nod.

"Yeah. Me too." Dean bobbed his head up and down.

"One more question."

"Yes, Alison?" Dean leaned in closer.

Alison smiled. "How do you feel about Hillary Clinton?"

"Well…" Dean frowned. "I think she took that whole Monica Lewinsky think on the chin. She's one tough cougar."

Alison tilted her head slightly as if she hadn't quite heard Dean correctly. "Cougar?"

"Alison?" Carolyn called, gesturing forcefully with her hand. "We're _leaving_. Joshua's waiting"

"Sorry, Joshua, I'm coming."

Joshua held out his other arm to her. She accepted it, and gave him a dazzling smile. "Thank you."

"Hey, why are you nice to him?" Caleb asked.

"He sends us gifts." Alison flipped her hair.

Mackland remained as sentry at the door. He said a quiet goodbye, and then shut the door behind hem. He sighed in relief.

"Dude? Seriously? She plays for the other team?" Dean nudged Caleb, who was staring at his father.

Caleb had already crushed the younger hunter's enthusiasm upon meeting the attractive brunette. "I'm sure, kiddo. You're not her type."

Dean still looked pleased with the exchange. "Even lesbians like me better than you."

Sam snorted, shooting Caleb a disbelieving glance. "Let me guess, you met her at a bar and she turned you down flat?"

"Actually it was a Christmas party." Caleb nodded. "And the snub was definitely my first clue."

"Damien, if that's the only proof you got then half the women in Vegas were lesbians."

"Funny, Deuce." Caleb slapped Dean in the gut and then looked pointedly at Sam. "If you must know she introduced me to her partner, Kara, later in the evening. She's an art student at NYU. We discussed 19th century architecture. They seemed _very _happy together with their tongues down each other's throat."

"Wow, Mac, nice to know, The Brotherhood is open minded." Dean commented and held out his hand to greet Mackland. The doctor had joined them.

Mackland accepted the handshake and gave his son and Sam a quick one armed hug.

"So what was that about?" Caleb asked.

"I'll get to that. He gestured for the boys to join him in the living room. "Though, I'd love to hear about your vacation."

"Not really much to tell, Dad," Caleb replied, beating Dean to the coveted leather recliner.

Mackland shook his head as Dean kicked Caleb's feet as he passed by to grab the end of the couch. "Sam has pictures though."

Sometimes they still acted like children. It was so damn hard not to see them as such. John's children. His child.

"I do not," Sam denied as he claimed the other end of the sofa.

"Oh, right." Dean grinned wickedly. "Those are pictures Caleb _took_ of you."

Mackland held up a hand to stop Sam's rebuttal. "I'd love to see them." He remained standing in front of the coffee table. "Perhaps after this next assignment is cleared away and behind us."

"Assignment?" Caleb asked, leaning forward. "What assignment?"

"The one I've called you here to discuss."

"Does this have something to do with the crying chick, her friend, and Sawyer being invited to our welcome home lunch?" Dean asked. "It's looking more like The Last Supper with Judas being invited and all."

Mackland ignored the implication of Joshua's lack of loyalty. He knew how Dean felt about Sawyer. "Yes."

"This should be interesting," Caleb replied. "I thought you might be talking with Dean and Sam about _other_ things."

Mackland glanced at his son. "I do have to discuss some things with Dean and Sam." He gave the oldest Winchester a pointed look. "Very important things."

"If this is about the demons…" Sam started only to have Mackland hold up a hand.

"We'll get to that, Samuel. But first, I need to tell you about what's going on in the ranks of The Brotherhood"

"More hunters out to frame us or better yet kill us?" Dean queried.

"Deuce." Caleb sighed. "Let him talk."

"Sorry, Mac."

"I just want you to listen." There was a lot going on in The Brotherhood, and it was cresting. "I came home yesterday evening to find an unexpected visitor. Griffin Porter was here to talk to me."

"What the hell did he want?" Caleb demanded.

"It seems as though Ian Hastings is in league with a demon. A demon you formerly knew as Meg." Mackland saw Sam's hard swallowing.

"We kind of figured that out from my run-in with the bastards who put Caleb in the hospital," Dean pointed out. "And if you remember the guy fingered Griffin as the ringleader."

"Griffin tells me he knew nothing of Ian and the demon's plan to kill Steve Wendell or hurt Caleb."

Dean snorted, but remained silent.

"I believe him, because there is a larger problem afoot. I think implicating Griffin in that particular incident was part of Ian's plan to make sure we stayed estranged. Ian has been privy to confidential information via his now ex-girlfriend, Carolyn, who you just saw leave here. "

"Dad, you don't think. . ." Caleb interrupted his father.

Mackland raised his hand. "I don't blame her. She is a member of Mensa, but grew up sheltered and Ian took advantage of that. But her files had information on my theory that Samuel Colt was a Scholar, Griffin also made the same deduction."

"He was a Triad member _and _made the gun?" Sam seemed to be in awe.

Mackland gave the young hunter a small smile. "Remarkable isn't it."

"So what's the assignment? Get rid of Ian?" Caleb asked. "With pleasure."

Mackland lifted a brow. Ian turning against The Brotherhood came as no surprise to his son and the Winchesters. He should have trusted their instincts. He knew Ian had more involvement in Caleb's incident when he was 16 years old. Mackland also should have forced Carolyn to cut her ties to the disgraced hunter once he had attacked Dean, Caleb and Sam in Tennessee. But he didn't want to interfere in a romance and trusted there would be discretion. Now, they could only move forward and learn from mistakes. "This is bigger than just Ian. Griffin came to make a proposal to work together."

"After what he pulled in Cosby with his little psychic brain scrambler? Even if he didn't set Sam and Caleb up in that whole Steve Wyndell mess, they almost died because of Ian's and Silas's demonstration. No disrespect, but there is no way in hell I'm working with Griffin and his fanatics." Dean stated, glancing over to his brother for support.

"You may not have a choice." Mackland said calmly, trying to retain control of the situation.

"There are always choices." Dean countered.

"Not in this instance," Mackland snapped, not liking Dean using Jim's words against him. He rarely lost his patience; but the lack of sleep and worry was wearing. Dean's mouth was not helping matters either. "Our hands may be tied. We gained an advantage when Riley, Boone's son, found Samuel Colt's journal while helping one of his professors catalog a donation, and contacted me; but now it seems it won't do us much good. "

"Dad, are you really considering this?"

"War is upon us, Caleb. Men do unthinkable things in times of war." God. He was beginning to sound like Johnathan.

"What kind of information did Ian get from Carolyn?" Sam asked.

Sam always went for the logical side of things. It was a good balance for Caleb and Dean. "He's seen the contents of Samuel Colt's journal for one."

Dean shook his head. "A journal? That's what this is about? Caleb mentioned you were wrapped up in some kind of Indiana Jones moment, searching for the Holy Grail but..."

"I found nothing Holy I'm afraid."

"What did you find?" Sam asked.

"Pandora's box."

"You know what Jim would say about that, Mac," Dean said. "Leave it buried. We have enough trouble."

"I can't do that. Not now that Ian has been privy to the same information-that he is in collusion with demons."

Dean looked at Mac. "And I still don't see what could be so important about the journal."

"Samuel Colt did make the gun that could kill anything," Sam pointed out. "He also created the trap in Wyoming. It could help with the whole demon problem. Did he write about that, Mac?"

"To some degree." Mackland answered.

"Have you got the journal?" Sam asked, looking excited.

"Not the actual journal, Riley was relieved of that. Luckily he scanned it, and we have the computer file."

"Who took it?" Caleb questioned, no longer reclining in the leather chair.

"Griffin did or at least he paid someone to do it. They also put Riley in the hospital."

"Damn," Caleb swore. "Is the kid alright?"

"He is. But Griffin now has a complete set of journals, and we lost the advantage. Griffin has the books belonging to The Guardian and The Knight of Samuel Colt's Triad, Daniel Wilmington and Cole Tanner. It seems that by putting those journals together a map is created with the location of a store of weapons and antiquities."

"You're shitting me? The store of weapons?" Caleb leaned further forward in his chair. "The one Griffin and his buddies were after when they kidnapped us all those years ago. They're real?"

"We were never sure if the weapons were a true target, Son. You have to remember, even then there was no proof they existed."

"And now there is?" Caleb relaxed back again.

"The journal talks about the weapons. Samuel and the rest of his Triad hid them, taking extreme effort to make sure they would not be found."

"But why? Why not destroy them or why didn't The Guardian take care of them, like Jim did?" Sam asked.

"There was an incident that caused a rift of uncertainty in the ranks. The Brotherhood experienced a time of unrest and the stability of that Triad was called into question. They feared mutiny. Hiding the objects was not only their insurance that the instruments would not fall into the wrong hands; but also a move of self preservation." Mackland fidgeted slightly. He looked at his hands, and thought how he was going to hurt his son as the story continued.

"Talk about history repeating itself." Dean grumbled under his breath.

"You have no idea, Dean."

"So Ian and Griffin now think they know where these weapons are?" Sam's frown deepened. It was a look Mac recognized.

"Yes. Even though Griffin claims Ian is no longer working for him, he fears the man or Meg was smart enough to make a copy of Tanner and Wilmington's part of the map. Along with the scanned cover he stole from Carolyn, he would have everything he needed."

"That still doesn't explain why Griffin would come to you for help. Why not go for the stockpile and have the power for himself?" Sam asked.

"They may have the map; but not the key to the treasure chest."

"And you're leaving out one of the most important things, Dad. I could understand Griffin's motives. But why exactly does a demon want antiquities? It's not exactly like they're powerless. Do you think Meg really needs to find some mythic weapon to do us in, now that she has about two-hundred or so relatives visiting?"

"Because Meg has a plan which could bring about the downfall of The Brotherhood." Mac stood up and took a seat on the corner of the coffee table, close to his son. "Caleb, I need you to listen to me."

"Okay." Caleb met his father's gaze. "But why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like what you're about to say?"

"You're not." Ames licked his dry lips. He was going to bring the world crashing down on his son. "But nothing I am going to tell you changes anything. You are still the next Knight of The Brotherhood. The same person you have always been."

Caleb gave his father a half-assed grin. "I already know I'm adopted, Dad."

"Mac, where's this going?" Dean asked, all hint of mirth gone from his voice.

Ames noticed the younger man had moved forward, inching himself closer to Caleb. He wondered if Dean could sense the threat his words would bring. Mackland refocused on his son. "You have to promise me you will not go off half-cocked or try to handle this on your own."

"Dad, just spit it out, because your Mike Brady moment is not giving me the warm and fuzzies."

"Griffin believes Meg and Ian are after an amulet that can be found in amongst the other antiquities."

"Okay."

"An amulet that was first used in the 1800's to bring forth a demon of the likes no one in The Brotherhood had ever seen. This demon had a following."

"The yellow-eyed demon," Sam surmised, grimly. "It was the first time a gate was opened."

Caleb glanced down at his hands. Mackland watched him twist the silver ring around his finger. "Does Samuel Colt's journal say _who_ used this amulet"

"Yes."

"Noah Seaver." Caleb leaned back, his face paling, looking like his frame could not support his own weight. "So the sonofabitch was real?"

"It would appear so."

"And the church fire? The child?" The psychic demanded, wanting to know if the rumor about his lineage was true that he was a direct descendent of Noah Seaver. According to Daniel Elkins Noah's wife escaped with her newborn child, changed her name, but didn't realize her child was marked and would pass the curse to his descendents.

"Samuel spoke about it all in detail." Mackland nodded. He placed a hand on his son's knee. He never wanted to be in a position to damage his son, and now he had done just that.

"It doesn't mean anything." Dean broke the tension.

Caleb snorted. "It means I'm cursed, a direct relative of the yellow-eyed demon."

"You're not fucking cursed, Dami…Caleb!"

The psychic shook his head. "It's okay. There was always a damn good chance it was all true." He glanced to his father. "Wishful thinking on our part."

"We don't know what it means, Son."

There was an unnerving silence and then Sam spoke thoughtfully. "What I don't get, Mac is why Meg would want the amulet. What does Griffin think she's planning to do with it? The gate has already been opened."

"He thinks she wants to do the same thing Noah Seaver did."

"No way!" Dean stood up. "Colt's gun killed that yellow-eyed bastard. He's dead! Nobody is bringing him back."

"The dead can rise, Dean or something just as evil can take its place." Mackland met the boy's fiery gaze. "If one has the right tools and the appropriate motivation, nothing is impossible."

"But Dad said…" Sam started.

"I know what your father believed, Sam." Ames explained to the younger Winchester. "But you know things in this world are never quite as black and white as we would like them to be. I'm not saying that what Meg is planning is possible; but do you really want to take that chance? The demons would have a leader again. They would be able to refocus on whatever plan they were cooking in the first place. But there's more."

"There always is," Dean growled his annoyance.

"Griffin believes there is also a weapon there capable of destroying us, The Brotherhood-destroying the source of the silver. We don't know much about it."

"But you know more than you're saying?"

Mackland could feel Dean's frustration. "We will discuss more about that when we get to The Boonedocks. But before you head there, I need you boys to check in with Riley."

"Why are we going to Boonedocks?" Caleb asked, still boneless in the chair.

"We are meeting Griffin and some others there. And before you go any further- we are _not _stealing the map. We are going to work together."

"And they need us, why?" Dean asked, his arms crossed.

Mackland exhaled heavily. "Finding where the weapons are is only a part of it. Samuel Colt and his Triad were very clever and careful. There are safeguards in place. Safeguards that allow only a Guardian to obtain the weapons

"But we don't have a Guardian," Dean challenged. "Do we, Mac?"

Mackland gave the younger hunter a hard look. He was beyond believing anything was going to work out as it should. Ames held the intelligent green gaze; something had changed in Dean over the last few months. The boy had always believed in The Brotherhood-in the fight of good against evil. Dean had always wanted to be a hunter before; but now things seemed different. Mackland decided it was time the charade was over. "I don't know, Dean. You tell me?"

Dean clenched his jaw, brushed his thumb over the silver ring on his right hand. "You should have told us a long time ago. You, Jim and Dad. It wasn't fair."

"Not much in this life is." Mackland leaned forward. "How long have you known?"

"I put it together awhile back."

Ames nodded, glanced towards Sam. "This isn't how it was supposed to happen. Jim would have talked with you all. There would have been a period of transition."

"I've read about how it works," Sam confessed. His brow creased. "I figured it out before I went to school. It all made sense to me after you gave me my ring…the way Dad was always pushing Caleb." He glanced to his brother. "How Jim acted towards us."

"The way Jim acted towards you had nothing to do with The Triad, Samuel," Mackland said firmly. "Don't disgrace his memory. He loved you boys first"

"He didn't tell me a damn thing," Dean murmured. "And I didn't ask for this."

"None of us did," Ames replied remembering when Jim asked him to be The Scholar. At the time he felt it was a calling, he was compelled to take the position.

"But Caleb got to choose," Sam interrupted. "He wanted to be The Knight. He wasn't kept in the dark."

"What?" The older psychic glared at Sam. "Are you kidding me? I never asked to be The Knight."

"Don't tell me you didn't want to be in The Brotherhood from the beginning. You followed Dad around like a puppy. We all knew you'd be his successor."

"Sam." Dean leaned forward to look at his brother. "Don't."

"What the fuck, Runt?" Caleb looked at the younger psychic. "Hell, yes, I wanted to be in The Brotherhood, but I didn't go around soliciting a part in The Triad. John gave me my ring, and I started to piece things together. The Knight has to be in the know to protect The Guardian and The Scholar. You're fuckin' mad at me 'cause I took on the responsibility of covering your ass? That's rich."

"You could have told us!"

"I was ordered not to!"

"And you learned to follow orders from the best."

Mackland held up a hand to intercede between the two. "Boys! This is not the time to argue amongst ourselves." Never was that more true. "You have to provide a united front. Your every move will be watched on this job."

"By who? Griffin?" Caleb turned his anger-filled eyes on his father. "Because I could give a flying fuck what he thinks of us."

"Griffin will not be going on the job, nor will I or Bobby." Mackland explained further. He spied his scotch and water at the other end of the coffee table, and reached for it. He needed the bottled courage.

"Then who the hell are the _others_ you were talking about?"

He didn't make eye contact with the trio, finding his drink much more interesting. "For lack of a better term, your understudies."

"Understudies?" Caleb asked.

"They usually have at least two people in mind for each position," Sam replied with a roll of his eyes. "A back-up plan. Did you and Dean ever read any of the journals?"

"What the hell for?" Caleb snarled. "I was already in the know. Remember?"

"Jim had second-stringers?" Dean asked Mackland. "You're freaking telling me that there's another prospect for Guardian."

Ames frowned. The look that came across Dean's face in that moment formed a knot in the doctor's gut. "Not exactly. There's only one Guardian, Dean. Jim made his choice a long time ago. The rest is a complicated process. The position has lots of mystery, and Jim didn't share it with either me or John."

"But if something were to happen to me..."

"Nothing's going to happen to you," Caleb jumped on the remark. "Why the hell are you even talking about that?"

"Because it's always a possibility, man."

Caleb stood up. "What, _you _doubting me now? You think I can't do my job? "

"What?" Dean stepped forward. "No. That's not what I'm talking about."

Mackland grimaced. Caleb was personally insulted. He wasn't sure how things had gotten so turned around. He stood up and reached for Caleb. "Son."

Caleb backed out of his reach and started out of the room. "I need some air."

"Damn it…Dami…Caleb."

The psychic stopped abruptly at Dean's fumble. He turned to his friend with a sad shake of his head. "You can say it, Deuce. Nothing's changed between us. Right?"

"Damn it!" Dean ran a hand through his hair and started after him.

Mac caught his arm. "I'm sorry, Dean. But we're not finished here."

Dean tried to pull away but Ames held firm. "I need to talk to him."

"And I need to talk to you. Alone." Mac jutted his chin towards the youngest Winchester and then gestured to the way Caleb had gone, outside on the balcony. "Sam."

Sam stood up from the couch. He gave his brother an apologetic look. "I'll handle it, Dean."

"Why doesn't that make me feel better?" Dean managed to pull his arm away from the doctor's grasp. "Just so you know, Mac, your welcome home party sucks!"

Continued in Chapter 2-Part B

RcJ

_Reviews are so welcome. I love hearing what you want to happen and what you liked about what's going on so far!_


	3. Chapter 2 Part B

Chapter 2 Part B

RcJSnsnsnsNRcJ

"Okay, Mac, we're alone." Dean cast a glance towards the balcony, making sure no one was going over the side. "What's so damn important?"

"First, cut the attitude."

The sharp tone pulled Dean's gaze back to the doctor and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It wasn't like him to snap at Mackland. The man had been nothing but supportive to him over the years. He was one of his father's closest friend. But, damn if he didn't have shitty timing. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not asking for an apology, Son." Mackland gestured to the couch. "Have a seat."

Dean did so with a feeling of dread. "You going to deliver one of your 'Father Knows Best' speeches to me too?"

Mackland reclaimed the edge of the coffee table. "I would have done anything not to have to tell Caleb that bit of news." He met Dean's gaze. "You understand that, don't you?"

Dean swallowed hard. "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "If this is about The Guardian thing, Mac I know you want me to embrace my whole destiny but I got to tell you, I'm not exactly jonesing for this title."

"I know that you haven't had the best experiences with some of the other hunters within our ranks, Dean."

"Understate much?" Dean snorted. "It's been one hell of a bumpy ride. We've been blindsided too many times. Why the hell would I even want to lead The Brotherhood?"

Mackland leaned forward, his gray eyes intense. "Dean, you've wanted to be a hunter since you were five. You would beg your father to be a part of jobs that most grown men would have run from. Everything we taught you, you absorbed like a sponge."

"I think you're remembering Sam, Doc."

Ames frowned. "Don't play dumb. Your brother is brilliant. There's no denying that. But you are just as talented in other areas. Areas that make you a natural for the job."

"Mac, I wanted to hunt so I could be with Dad and the other hunters. I wanted to be _like_ Dad." Dean believed his father was a hero. He wanted to live up to that expectation. Mostly, that still rang true.

"Perhaps in the beginning, but what started out as a father and son venture became your own passion. You want to help people. To rectify the wrongdoings done to the innocent. You can't deny that."

"Okay, so let's say I believe in the cause-in Damien's whole Three Musketeer rap. That doesn't mean I'm fit to be a leader. That I would even begin to know how to do such a job." Dean looked down at his ring. "What the hell was Jim thinking?"

A hint of a dimple appeared in Mackland's cheek. "He was thinking you were a strong, brave, intelligent warrior with a heart too big for his own good."

"Right." Dean rolled his eyes. "That's me, Captain Onehelluva Big Brother."

"You are, you know."

Dean's brow furrowed. "What?"

"A good brother." Mackland clasped his hands together. "To Sam and Caleb."

"That's not exactly true." Dean's gaze went to the balcony again. He licked his lips. "There are some things you don't know, Mac." He sought the doctor's compassionate gray eyes again. "Things that would make it impossible for me to be the next Guardian even if I wanted to."

"I know about the deal, Dean."

Dean felt his chest constrict, his breath caught. "What?"

"The deal you made for Sam's life." It was Mackland's turn to look out the window.

Fucking Bobby. The man had promised not to tell _Caleb. _Dean should have included The Scholar for good measure. He didn't know what to say. "Mac…I…you…"

"Don't understand?" Mac laughed, roughly wiped at his eyes. "I think I understand all too well."

"I couldn't let him die. It's my job to watch out for him. You know that."

"Yes. I know you believe that." Mackland sighed wearily. "And a part of me commends your unflinching loyalty and love for Sam." He reached for Dean's arm, wrapped his fingers around the younger hunter's wrist. "But you are valuable, too. Not only to this fight, not only to The Brotherhood, but to your family."

"Mac, my family would have been gone."

"Not everyone."

"I couldn't lose Sammy."

"It would have broken my heart to lose your brother. I love him like my own son. He's so much like your father that sometimes it's like John isn't even gone…but losing you will be just as hard. Do you understand that?"

"I understand." And Dean did. Maybe he didn't think about it before he made the deal. He was too consumed with his own grief with the overwhelming despair of his worst nightmare being realized. But afterwards, when the world had righted itself, reality had set in. Dean had sealed his own fate-bound others to suffer because of his death. People he loved.

Sam would have to live with his brother's fate. But so would Caleb. There was no worse pain. Dean understood that all too well. Then there was Mackland and Bobby…Missouri. Not to mention the obligation he owed to Jim Murphy. To The Brotherhood.

What could he say? He was sorry to hurt those closest to him; but he wouldn't apologize for saving Sam. His whole life he had sacrificed for others; but this was the one selfish act he claimed for himself. "I wish it could be different."

"Do you?"

Dean clenched his fists. "I wish it wouldn't hurt anyone else."

"Anyone but you, you mean?"

"I knew what I was signing on for."

"And you're okay with that?"

"The whole one year thing…that doesn't bother me so much. You know? I can make my peace with that." Dean shrugged, laughed weakly. "It's almost a relief."

He could tell by the stricken look on Mackland's face he had not said the smartest of things.

"A relief?"

"I mean I don't have to worry about what tomorrow will bring…you know. I don't have to worry about screwing up or letting anyone down." But that wasn't entirely true. Dean had other fears now.

"Dean, I think I should get you some help."

"Help?" Did Bobby not explain the details to the doctor. "No way, Mac. If we try to break the deal, or weasel out of it in any way, then Sammy's worm food."

"I wasn't speaking of that kind of help." Mackland pinned him with a hard stare. "I was speaking of professional help, Son. I think you're depressed. You have…"

Dean's laugh was deep and genuine this time. "You want me to see a fucking shrink, Mac? Really?" It was beyond comical. They were in the middle of a war. Mackland had said it himself. They were being bombarded from all sides. "And what am I supposed to tell Dr. Freud as I lay on his leather couch? It's my mom's fault that my life has gone to hell?"

"I have colleagues that deal in this area, Dean. We can tell them you've received a terminal diagnosis. Many of the emotions you are going through will be the same. Denial, anger, bargaining…"

Dean held up his hand, shook his head. "No, Mac. I appreciate it, man. I know you're trying to help. But I'm not depressed." Maybe he was depressed. Hell he didn't know anymore. It wasn't like it mattered. Dean would handle it himself. "I'm going to do this my way."

"The Winchester way?" Mackland growled. He ran his hands through his hair. "Damn it, Dean. I can't _not_ help you. Do you understand that?" Mackland leaned closer, his face mere inches from Dean. "I won't lose you like your father. Not without a fight."

"If you want to really help me, then do some research for me. Put your Geek Squad on it."

The doctor leaned back, a look of exasperation on his face. "What kind of research?"

"I need to know what might happen to me down there, Mackland. I need to be prepared for anything. And not that whole biblical spiel where I'm tortured and burn for eternity." Dean pushed on, even though the thoughts of what kind of physical pain he might endure caused an involuntary flinch. "I want to know if they could do something to mess with me…make me into something else."

Mackland raked a hand across his mouth and Dean thought he looked like he might be sick. "You're afraid they'll try and turn you into one of them?"

"Maybe." Dean felt his own eyes water, his throat burn. "Mostly I'm afraid they'll use me against you all." His throat grew tighter and he cursed the one lone tear he felt trail down his face. "That they'll make me do something to Sammy or Caleb. Or they'll have to end me. You know they couldn't deal with that."

"And you think Caleb and Sam are going to be able to deal with you going to hell, Dean?"

Dean angrily wiped at his face. "They'll have to."

"Not without a battle."

"Sam understands how I feel about that. He knows there's nothing he can do."

"And Caleb?"

"Doesn't know."

The doctor nodded. "For now."

"Are you going to tell him?"

Ames seemed to hesitate but then shook his head. "No. And I don't want you to either."

Dean was surprised. It wasn't in Mac's nature to be deceitful, especially with Caleb. The earlier revelation was just one example of the man's dedication to his ingrained belief that the truth would set you free, even if it did really screw you over first. "You want me to lie?"

"I want you to do what you've been doing." Mackland glanced towards the balcony again. "At least until this job is over. It's going to be hard enough as it is. And you all have to be on top of your game. This venture is important for many reasons."

"I can do that." In fact, Dean preferred it. A part of him was terrified Mackland was going to lay out the reason why he should tell Caleb. Reasons Sam had already recanted over and over again.

"But understand this, Dean." Mackland met Dean's gaze again. "This whole Noah Seaver situation will pale in comparison to what you will tell him. And _you _will be the one to tell him."

"You don't think I know what it will do?" Dean was painfully aware.

Mackland shook his head-the gut-wrenching look of anguish once more swirling in his gray eyes. "I'm not sure you do, Son."

Dean felt the weight of the older hunter's sympathy and concern for Caleb . "I'll take care of it."

Mackland nodded. "I will work on the research you asked for. But I'm also going to look for a way out of this." The doctor held up his hand. "A way that won't endanger Sam. In fact, I already have a few other theories in mind."

Dean started to reply, but his brother's shout from the balcony stole whatever objection he was about to offer. He and Mackland shared a knowing look. "What now?"

_RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

The warm June air rushed against Sam as he stepped onto the balcony, closing the door behind him.

Caleb didn't turn around, but the familiar psychic touch let Sam know the other man was well aware of who had followed him out. A sick feeling of regret washed over Sam as he did a reading of his own. The older hunter's blocks were powerful; but Sam still picked up the uncharacteristic emotions on the surface. Hurt. Fear. Regret.

Like Dean, Caleb always seemed unshakeable to Sam. They were like John Winchester in that regard, so any momentary weakness, any slight fissure in their impenetrable defenses, appeared magnified ten fold in Sam's eyes. He always felt like a little boy again. It scared him. He didn't know how to react. It caused the world as Sam knew it to skew. They, the mighty hunters, had protected him his whole life, he felt daunted and smothered by the shadow of it. Sam was inept at having the roles reversed. His anger grew.

"I'm not going to jump, Sam. So you can go right back inside and report to Mac."

Caleb's sharp tone snapped Sam from his thoughts. He shielded his eyes against the bright sunlight and joined Reaves at the railing, his gaze going out to the cityscape below. "It's definitely a long way down." Sam glanced out of the corner of his eye. "Probably wouldn't feel a thing."

The older psychic snorted. "You encouraging me, Sammy?" He turned his face to Sam, lifting a brow. "Maybe thinking about giving me a push?"

Sam shook his head, enjoying the scenery once more. "Nah. Dean would never forgive me."

Caleb nodded. "Good to see you're thinking about someone else for a change."

Sam turned and leaned against the railing so he was facing Caleb. "This where you tell me again what a selfish bastard I am?"

"I've never said that," Caleb replied, quietly.

"You've thought it." Sam licked his lips. He could not really blame Caleb. There were times when he had been selfish.

"From time to time." Caleb shrugged. "Had the same revelation about myself over the years too. Nobody's perfect."

"Not even Dean?" Sam wasn't sure where that question had come from. Maybe it escaped from that little black hole in his heart where he felt he fell short of what everyone _thought_ he should be. But he was pretty certain he didn't mean for it to be voiced aloud.

Caleb frowned. "Is that a trick question?"

"No." Sam sighed. "Just a stupid one," he muttered, feeling it had been a manipulative one too.

They shared a moment of weighted silence before Sam garnered his courage. "Look, Caleb. About what I said in there…"

"Yeah?" Caleb faced him, a closed expression on his face. "What about it?"

Sam made a conscious effort not to look away. "I'm just really pissed." It wasn't exactly what he wanted to say, but then he didn't know how to say what he wanted to say, especially with the secret of his own recent demise between them.

"It got anything to do with what's been in your craw for the last few days?"

Sam had thought he was hiding things pretty well. He'd followed along on the trip to Vegas, spoke right on cue, laughed when he was supposed to. Caleb knew him better than he thought.

"Maybe." He couldn't tell him about Dean. About what his idiotic big brother had done to save him. He couldn't tell Caleb they both were going to lose a brother.

"I would say I'm not a mind reader; but we both know that's not true." Caleb squinted, bringing a hand up to rub his forehead. "I've been respecting the privacy thing, though."

Sam couldn't help but laugh. "That's bull. I've gotten too good at blocking you."

Caleb smirked, but inclined his head in resignation. "I'm a damn good teacher."

"You are." Sam swallowed thickly. Caleb had been there for him. Answering questions, patiently listening to Sam ramble about his fears over the last year. He'd trusted him with his journal, offered him advice when he asked for it and sometimes when Sam didn't request it. "But I'm still mad as hell."

"Join the club."

Sam palmed his eyes. "I'm so pissed at Jim, Dad, Mac…" He looked at the other psychic. "And you." He had gone beyond being mad at his brother. Sam needed to focus his frustration somewhere.

Caleb exhaled heavily. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Sam ignored the glibness. He was quite certain his argument was a valid one. If he only presented it right, then surely Caleb would see. "On one hand I understand the cloak and dagger stuff surrounding The Triad. All the logistics and principles of it at least. But on another…I mean, don't you see it, man? They _plotted _our lives for us. They set us on a course that we had no say in; that we couldn't escape. It's worse than indentured servitude or an arranged marriage." It was the idea of having no control that scared Sam the most. It should have terrified Caleb.

"Yeah." Caleb laughed. "Me, you, and Deuce 'til death do us part."

"I'm not joking," Sam snapped. Sometimes he just wanted to shake his brother and Caleb for their smart-assed replies. There were some things that shouldn't be joked away. "This is my life I'm talking about. I didn't have a fucking choice." He was a baby when the demon tainted him. His whole life had been a lie.

Caleb took a step forward, bringing him into the other man's personal space. "And just what kind of life do you think you would have had without The Brotherhood, Sam? You think John would have just gone back to working in the garage? Remarried maybe? Have you forgotten what happened to your pal, Max?"

"You're missing my point!"

"What is your point, Sam?" Caleb demanded. "You still pissed because you think I got to choose my position? Wear the ring?"

Sam didn't miss the fact that Caleb stared pointedly at his naked finger. The insinuation inched his anger up a notch. "You wanted it, Caleb! You've always wanted to be a hunter." That was what worried Sam the most. How their wants could so easily be used against them.

"I wanted it?" Caleb threw his arms up in frustration. "You think I _wanted _my parents to die? You think I _wanted_ to be a thirteen year-old orphan who found out he was a freak of nature in time to watch his grandmother die? Or maybe I _wanted_ to be charged with a double homicide and then nearly killed by crazy Daniel Elkins. Yeah. That sounds about right. Every kid's fucking dream."

Sam looked down at his hands, fisted them tightly around the iron rail. "No." He lowered his voice. "That's not what I meant." Although, it all made sense in a twisted, ironic way. Things had started making too much sense to Sam after his last encounter with the yellow-eyed demon. Sam had once said it. The demon liked to push people. People could be pushed into becoming anything.

Mom's death pushed Dad to become a hunter. Dad became The Knight-offering his children up in battle. Dad's obsession pushed Dean to protect them. Dean would do _anything _for his father-for Sam. Even sell his soul. Jess's death pushed Sam back into hunting, back to The Brotherhood-to his role as the next Scholar.

Caleb took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "You think I got to _choose, _Sammy? Then you tell me where in the hell my choice was."

Sam met the intense gold gaze. Caleb was pushed by his need to belong to something-anything better than what he had come from. He needed to vindicate himself-to believe he was worthy. It pushed him to be the best Knight the Brotherhood would ever know.

They were both led by tragedy to very powerful positions. "Do you ever think that might have been the plan from the beginning? Take all our other choices, so we had to choose the life they wanted." Like herding cattle, leading them to slaughter.

"What?" Caleb rubbed at his forehead a look of frustration marring his features. "What the hell are you talking about, Sam? Jim didn't take anything from us."

"I'm not talking about Jim and The Brotherhood, damn it. What if something or someone else also wanted us to end up in power?" Sam thought about it all the time. He wasn't sure exactly what he was…but it wasn't anything normal or natural. Not anymore. "You and me. We're not your typical candidates for Knight and Scholar. Isn't that what a lot of the other hunters say? What Griffin Porter tried to convince Jim of?"

"Sam, I might be marked by that yellow-eyed sonofabitch. But you are not!" Caleb reached out and wrapped his fingers around Sam's forearm. "You're thinking about this too much. Using that huge brain of yours to see conspiracies that aren't there. Understand me? There's nothing wrong with you. Scholars are traditionally psychic. It's always been that way. It was Merlin's gift to them. Just like your abilities are gifts."

A rush of affection washed over Sam. Memories of countless pizzas, reluctantly told bedtime stories and pencil-sketches of mighty dragons flooded his mind. Caleb still wanted to protect him. Sam wanted to return the favor. "You don't know everything, man."

"I know enough." Caleb let him go. "I know you."

"But our abilities…" They were so similar in nature.

"We're nothing alike," Caleb said again, seeming to understand exactly what Sam was getting at.

Sam watched as the older hunter winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And don't listen to anything Griffin Porter or his lackeys have to say."

No matter what Caleb wanted to believe, Sam knew better. He and Caleb were alike, more similar than Caleb could know. The same blood ran through their bodies, insidiously laying its demonic traces.

Sam wanted to explain about the dream the yellow-eyed monster had shown him. He wanted to explain why he was so worried. Why he wasn't trying to be a bastard; but hoping to stop even more horrible things from happening. Sam cleared his throat, attempting to keep his voice from sounding as broken and unsure as he felt. "He did something to me, Caleb."

Reaves whipped his attention back to Sam. "_Who_ did something to you? Griffin?"

"No." Sam shook his head. There was a dangerous glint in Caleb's gold eyes. One Sam was used to seeing from Dean. Caleb would kill or be killed to keep Sam safe. But he couldn't protect Sam from himself. It was all getting so complicated-spiraling out of control. "Back when I was in that town…when Jake and the others were competing…" Sam hesitated.

Caleb tilted his head, his frown growing. "You never told me exactly what happened there."

Sam opened his mouth, but Caleb's frown quickly turned into a grimace. He watched as the older psychic brought both hands to his head, inhaled sharply.

"Caleb?" Sam reached out and steadied the other hunter as Caleb staggered.

"Damn it!" Caleb swore, bending at his waist, both hands now pressed against his temples.

"What's wrong? Is it a vision?" Sam watched his friend fight against the assault. It looked like a vision. He knew all too well from experience what that was like, the skull-splitting sensation of shifting to another dimension-the agonizing awareness of being torn from the moment and being cast into the future where something terrible was waiting for you. Since Jake, and his new found life he was no longer plagued by visions, but he could sympathize.

Caleb shook his head. "Sam," he gasped and glanced up at the younger man through glassy, unfocused eyes. "Something's…wrong."

Sam's chest clenched. "Caleb?" He barely caught the other psychic in time as Caleb's legs gave way. Sam sank to his knees under Caleb's weight, but he managed to keep them from hitting the ceramic tiled surface with much force. "What's going on? Talk to me."

Caleb jerked in his arms, took a gasping breath as if he couldn't bring in enough oxygen. "I…I can't ..."

"Caleb!" Sam snapped, gripped his friend's shoulders as one of Reaves's hands went to his upper chest, near the base of his throat, while the other remained on his head.

"Can't…" Caleb let go of his head, fumbled to find perch on Sam's shirt, before his fingers tightened desperately in the fabric. His sentence trailed off punctuated only by a shattering silence.

Sam registered the sound, or lack there of, instantly. Caleb wasn't breathing. "No,no,no…" Sam muttered as he struggled to get the other man laying flat on the balcony. "Don't do this." Visions didn't cause someone to stop breathing. They made you feel like you were dying; but they didn't kill. What the hell was going on?

Caleb's eyes fluttered then rolled back in his head. His body went still. His grip slid from Sam's shirt, hand flopping with a deadened thud onto the tile. "Dean!" Sam yelled, fear seizing him. "Dean!" Sam looked over his shoulder, through the glass doors. Help was just beyond them. "Mac! "

_RcJSnsnsnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

Sam's shout was panic driven. Mackland recognized the underlying mixture of distress and alarm. From the worried look on Dean's face as he ran towards the balcony, Mackland was sure the younger hunter heard it too.

Mackland had believed there was a clinically sound reason he had formed no intimate bonds in his early years. He attributed it to the loss of his mother as a baby and no substitute bonding with his father. His choice of profession helped to keep him distant from others, high upon a sanctimonious pedestal. He could be in the company of others, but not truly connected to them. At the time he liked it; was entirely comfortable with it.

His accident changed that. No longer was the revered Doctor Ames untouchable. He _needed_ people. People to feed him, dress him and perform the most basic of functions necessary for existing. It was as humbling as it was humiliating. And it taught him an invaluable lesson.

Somewhere during those long months, Mackland decided he didn't only need other people; but he wanted them in his life. He began to crave the relationships. It was as if a fog had lifted and through the clearing he was finally able to see that although there was a risk in inviting intimacy and companionship; there was also unimaginable rewards. Then people started to enter into his life, seeing the opening- Missouri Mosley, Jim Murphy, John Winchester.

Caleb Reaves came to him.

Mackland had never imagined himself a father before the thirteen-year-old fell into his life. In fact, he often laughed outright when his own father, Cullen Ames suggested such preposterousness. Now he could not imagine himself as anything but a parent

During the months of hearings to keep Caleb legally in his custody, Mackland had done a great deal of bargaining with Caleb's guardian, Bird, the courts and God. He had never wanted anything quite so much and it terrified him.

The doctor promised Caleb would be his priority. It was one of the reasons Mackland never returned to high-profile surgery. Why he only pursued women discreetly and never for anything more serious than a casual reciprocity. For twenty years Mackland had been dedicated to giving Caleb anything and everything he could fathom his son needing.

But finding Caleb lifeless on the balcony sent shards of guilt and fear lancing through him. He hadn't been steadfast with his son as of late. Mackland had been consumed with his position as Scholar, dealing with the grief of losing not only one, but two, dear friends. Then there was his more selfish pursuit-his friendship with Esme.

As he knelt by his son, instinctively starting a precursory scan of his condition, Mackland couldn't help but wonder if he had missed something-some sign his child wasn't well. He wished he hadn't surprised Caleb with the truth about Noah Seaver. He should have found another way other than cruel bluntness.

"Mac?"

Sam's stricken voice brought Ames from his recriminating thoughts. He continued the exam, but glanced at the youngest Winchester. "What happened, Sam?"

"Damien?" Dean kneeled at Caleb's head, his hand hovering over the older hunter. "Caleb?"

"We were talking…and then it was like he was about to have a vision. But…"

"But what?" Dean demanded before Mackland could. "What's going on?"

"I don't know!" Sam snapped. "He said something was wrong and then he couldn't catch his breath."

"Respiration is still compromised," Mackland reported, more to himself than the boys. He let his hand rest on Caleb's neck, feeling a thready pulse. Caleb's heart hadn't stopped. "Dean, clear his airway."

Dean quickly did as the doctor ordered; tilting Caleb's head back with practiced skill. He leaned down, his cheek only centimeters from Caleb's mouth. "Nothing, Mac." Dean's earnest gaze locked on Ames. "Do something."

Mackland quickly went through the methods of addressing an unresponsive victim. Nothing roused Caleb or garnered a reaction. "Damn it."

"Should we start CPR?" Dean asked. "Mac?"

"Sam, you said he was having a vision?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. That's what it looked like."

"We need to stop it."

"Stop what?" Dean demanded. "You don't even know what _it_ is."

"I think Sam's right." Mackland glanced at his son's face. Caleb's eyes were rapidly moving beneath his closed lids. "It's a vision. Not a typical one. No," Mackland admitted. "But that doesn't mean it's not."

"And just how the hell do you stop a vision?" Dean looked at his brother. "I've never had any fucking luck bringing Sam out of one."

"Sam can do it."

Mackland watched the boy shrink back.

"I can?"

"Yes. With your connection to Caleb, you can." The doctor was almost certain. For Caleb's sake he hoped it wasn't wishful thinking.

"But Mac…I don't know if I still have…"

"We don't have time for further speculation or discussion, Samuel." Mackland reached out and grabbed hold of Sam's hand. "You remember in the hospital in Texas? You found him when he was in the coma. Do it now, Sam. Just look for him. Connect with him. It should be enough to break whatever he's linked into."

"Okay." Sam nodded. He glanced at his brother. "I'll try."

Mackland placed Sam's hand over Caleb's. "That's all I ask, son."

It only took a moment. Sam closed his eyes. His brow wrinkled in concentration. He flinched and then Caleb jerked abruptly as if waking from a bad dream.

Mackland felt the weight of fear flee his body as his son took one gasping breath, then another. "Easy." Mackland laid a hand on Caleb's chest as his eyes snapped open and he began to cough. "Nice and easy."

"Damien?" Dean placed a hand on Caleb's shoulder. "You back with us?"

"What…the hell?" Caleb sputtered. He groaned as he tried to push himself up from the balcony floor.

"Take it slow," Mackland cautioned, but allowed Dean to help Caleb to an upright position.

"No worries." Caleb brought a shaky hand up to his head. "Only speed going right now, Dad."

"That's good. Until we know exactly what happened…"

"Vision," Caleb interrupted, glancing towards Sam who was on his other side gripping Caleb's hand He took a ragged breath. "Sort of. Want to ease up there, Tiger? Your brother didn't have that death grip during the rollercoaster ride in Vegas."

"Sorry." Sam let go, but remained close. "Are you okay?"

Caleb forced a half grin. "I can breathe."

"Son, what happened?" Mackland had claimed Caleb's hand now and was proceeding to take his pulse. "Do you remember what you saw?"

Caleb shook his head. "Not much. It was dark. And I couldn't breathe-like I was smothering. And it was fucking cold. " He shivered, pulled away from his father. "I'm okay."

Mackland rocked back on his heels, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. His son was shaken and not being completely honest. "Were you connecting with something?"

Caleb rubbed his neck. "I felt like it was happening to me…I must have been linked with the victim."

"That's atypical." Mackland's concern grew. "But it has happened before."

His son must have realized the time he was alluding to because Caleb's eyes filled with fear as he looked at Dean. "When Dean was in danger-before that psychopath took him."

Dean shook his head. "One freaking time doesn't make a pattern, Dude. And if you remember, you ended up with a bullet for your trouble. This could be about you."

"Dad?" Caleb refocused on his father, struggling to get to his feet. "You said that Griffin and his boys needed Dean to open the damn door. Ian and that bitch Meg probably figured the same thing."

Sam and Dean steadied Caleb as he made it completely upright.

"I can take care of myself," Dean commented.

Caleb ignored him. "Do you think this vision could be some kind of Knight thing? A warning?"

"I don't know." Mackland sighed. There was so much about The Triad he didn't know. "Knights have a bond to their charges, but no Knight has had your abilities."

"Never had a demon in the position either."

"Come on, man," Dean growled. "Drop that shit."

Caleb started to protest, but Mackland interceded. "Let's get you inside."

"I told you I'm fine." Caleb stepped forward, away from Dean and Sam.

He swayed slightly and Mackland shook his head at the stubbornness he was certain was a requirement of all Knights. There was no point arguing. He had learned that from John.

"Then let's have lunch and get on with our discussion."

On cue, Joshua's voice rang out from inside. "Lunch is served."

The blond hunter hovered in the open doorway from the balcony. He was holding a box and his critical gaze swept over Caleb. "What happened?"

"He had a vision that didn't agree with him," Dean replied. "Nothing for the help to concern themselves with."

Joshua gave Dean a heated look before turning away. Mackland rubbed his neck as he watched the blond disappear into the kitchen where he heard a few cabinets opening and then the buzz of the microwave. "You're going to have to find a better way to deal with him, Dean."

Dean followed Mackland inside, still shadowing Caleb. Sam closed the door behind them, following his brother to the couch.

"Is termination an option?" Dean raised a brow. "Do I get to decide who's out?"

"Careful how you answer, Mac." Sam took a seat beside Caleb. "He's not above putting a horse head in Josh's bed."

Mackland didn't get a chance to reply to the Godfather reference as Joshua returned to the living room with a piping cup. He strode to the couch and stopped in front of Caleb.

"Here, drink this."

Dean peered inside the cup. "What is it?"

"Hot water and some spices for clarity. Nothing sinister unless Macland's spice rack is mislabeled. I assure you it will help."

Macland hadn't realized he had a spice rack. He was no longer as suspicious of Joshua's herbal remedies, but Dean was, he noted the younger hunter's clenched jaw.

"We don't need your kind of help, Josh."

"Deuce," Caleb took the cup. "Drop that shit."

Caleb drank Joshua's concoction and grimaced.

"You're welcome," Joshua said snidely. Mackland wondered if Joshua purposefully made his brews taste worse when it came to his sons and the Winchesters.

Caleb took another drink and exhaled. The color in his face seemed to be improving. "Thanks."

Joshua smirked at Dean, but then his eyes narrowed. Sawyer snatched something from behind the younger hunter. "What's this?" He waved a silk scarf of muted earth tones in front of them.

Mackland winced, recognizing the article. At that moment he was glad Dean was boisterous.

Dean snorted. "Looks like a piece of frilly fu-fu apparel. Did you forget it on your last visit?"

Joshua's face reddened. "It's my mother's. I bought it in Paris."

"Did you buy them in bulk to hand out for suck-up souvenirs?" Caleb asked. "Maybe one of The Geek Squad left it?"

"Joshua…" Mackland started.

"This is my mother's," Joshua snapped. "What's it doing here?" He sought out Mackland. "What am I doing here?"

Dean's grin grew and he turned a mischievous gaze to Ames. "Why, Mac, you're just full of surprises today."

"Boys." Mackland warned, wishing he was more respected and feared than a favorite, doting uncle.

"Isn't it obvious, Josh?" Dean looked at the blond and bobbed his eyebrows. He gestured to the couch. "Items are often left at the scene of the crime. Especially if it's a crime of passion." His smile faded. "But why are you here?"

"I was in town on business helping a client of the firm." Joshua crossed his arms, and still kept his gaze leveled on Mac.

Mackland was relieved for the change in subject, and about to answer when Sam interrupted.

"Halle Berry?" Sam asked.

Mackland, Dean and Caleb stared at the youngest hunter.

"What?" Caleb and Dean asked at the same time, also confused by the odd and out of the blue query.

Mackland rubbed at his weary eyes, wondering not for the first time where Jim Murphy found his reserve of patience.

"How do you know about Halle Berry?" Joshua asked Sam.

"I started watching those entertainment shows. Does anyone else think Brittany Spears is possessed?"

Mackland covered his mouth. He praised Sam's intelligence, but as he had warned television had effected his mental acuity.

Sam waved his hand. "Anyway, I swear I saw you escorting Halle Berry."

"Dude, entertainment shows?" Dean shook his head at his brother. "You _are_ a girl."

Caleb snorted. "Way to keep yourself out of the public eye, Josh. So what's Halle Berry like?"

"I'm not answering that." Joshua uncrossed then recrossed his arms. "Aren't you concerned about your father and my mother?" Sawyer again focused his glare on Ames. "I would like some answers. Is this some sort of loyalty test? I know about Ian's traitorous turn against The Brotherhood."

"This isn't a test of your loyalty, Joshua." Mackland took the scarf from the hunter. "Nor is it time to talk about the relationship I have with your mother."

"Relationship?" Caleb piped up.

Mackland gave his son a hard glare. This was the reason they had decided to keep their romance a secret. Their children were accustomed to having their parent's sole attention. Neither Caleb nor Joshua had learned to share well. "We are here to discuss how we are going to save The Brotherhood." He returned his gaze to Sawyer. "Joshua, you've worked with the other perspective Triad. Your job is to fill the boys in on everything you know about them. I want everyone briefed completely before you reach Boston."

"I don't know what worries me more," Joshua muttered. "The fact I've been elected as your company mole or that I'm being forced to take a road trip with the likes of these three."

Dean smirked at the blond hunter. "I'd definitely worry about the close quarters."

"Now if that's all settled." Mackland stuffed the scarf in his pocket. "Let's have lunch." He turned to Sam and clasped the younger man on the shoulder. "I'm excited to hear all about those indiscretions you saved Caleb and your brother from."

"Tell me there is not a slide show," Joshua groaned, but followed Sam and Mackland. "I've been punished enough."

_RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

Dean stood and caught Caleb's arm before he could follow the others into the dining room. "Caleb, hold up."

"Dean." Caleb raised a brow. "We going back to being formal?"

The pained look wasn't missed, Dean took a deep breath to try and gather his thoughts. "Damien…are you sure you're okay?"

"That depends, Deuce. Are you referring to the freaky-assed vision that took me down like a little bitch or the part where Mac pretty much dropped a house on me?"

"I know how hard your head is, so let's go with the Noah Seaver shit." Caleb's heart was much more vulnerable.

Caleb looked down at the floor, then glanced back up to meet his best friend's gaze. "I'm not sure, man." He slid a hand through his dark hair. "It was one thing to suspect it…but to know it's true. It makes me doubt a lot of shit. You know?"

Dean nodded, reached out and squeezed Caleb's shoulder. "You don't ever have to doubt me and Sammy. We're not going anywhere. We're in this with you."

Reaves grinned, playfully knocked his hand away. "One for all and all for one, huh?"

The words sent a shiver through Dean. "Damn straight." At least for a year they could be the Three Musketeers. He cleared his throat, desperately needing some normalcy. "So… Mac and Esme?" He grinned evilly at his friend. "I' bet you twenty they've done it on the kitchen table."

Caleb's face paled. "That's no where near funny, Deuce."

"It's a little funny."

"Way to kick a guy when he's down." Caleb shook his head and he swallowed thickly. "I'm eating at the island."

Dean snorted. "Like that's off-limits."

"Shut up, Deuce."

RcJ

A/N: See, I told you chapter two was huge. Chapter three in two weeks. Reviews are devoured by the muse! Thanks to those who take the time to push that little button. Shouts out to Tidia for the very cute Hallie Berry reference and all her hard work. And to Tara for her read through. They rock.


	4. Chapter 3

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Chapter 3

By: Ridley

Beta: Tidia

A/N: I know I say this every time; but I really mean it. There is a lot of information in this chapter. It is one biggie-a whopping 26 pages. I think that is some kind of record for me and Tidia. Let me tell you; she doesn't want it to happen again. I'm guessing she roughly spent around ten hours total in the beta job on this thing. Trust me it is much better for her work. I would have probably confused the heck out of you all. I tend to think people can read my mind. I know there is a lot of stuff going on; but I so hope you enjoy it. I really appreciate your comments and reviews and I am having a great time writing this. I know it seems the action is building slowly; but I promise you're in for a roller coaster ride as soon as it gets started. Injuries and angst to go around for all the boys. Hang in there with me. And thanks again for reviewing. And thank Tidia.;-)

_RcJ_

Entry from Samuel Colt's journal November 1, 1840-

**_As of late my life seems as though I am living it on a Shakespearean stage, performing a role I have been given no privy to. My fellow thespians are no longer trusted friends, but characters of whom I know little about. Their masks hide their true emotions and intentions. I am left to fumble through each scene feeling more and more disoriented. Daniel says we must have faith- the true nature of our brothers will shine through. Daniel does not realize our fellow hunters are human first and foremost. Merlin understood this. It is their true nature shining through that frightens me most. Humans often want what is worst for them. If our brothers get what they want, all could be lost including Cole._**

_RcJSnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

Outside of Boston, Massachusetts

"So to recap your long drawn out explanation, these guys are the 'bizarro' us." Dean looked at Joshua, who had garnered the coveted shotgun seat by using his recent leg injury as a ploy.

Joshua frowned at the 'Seinfeld' reference. "I beg your pardon?"

"You know." Dean waved his hand. "Like when Elaine hooks up with the freaky Jerry, Kramer, and George clones?"

"Superman started it all," Caleb pointed out from the backseat. "The Bizzaro Superman was identical to Clark Kent physically, but totally the opposite in all other regards. Didn't you ever read a comic book, Josh?"

"I suppose if I feel the need I can borrow one of yours," Joshua retorted. "Or perhaps Riley will lend me a copy of his. From what I understand he is just the type to have quite the collection."

"Back to Gideon, Ethan and Elijah," Sam interrupted the impending insult swap. "Is that all the information you have?"

"Well, your brother's assumption is true in the respect that they are completely your opposites if one looks at the factors of respectability and lineage."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Caleb demanded and Dean shot him a look in the rearview mirror. His friend's patience for Josh had waned. It wasn't surprising considering the morning events.

"I was referring to the fact that they all come from a long line of noteworthy hunters, have established themselves as successful members of The Brotherhood _and_ contributing members to society. As I said before Gideon's grandfather was Julian Smith. Ethan and Elijah's father and grandfather were well-liked and respected"

"Unlike us?" Dean snorted.

"You're not really on anyone's favorite list at the moment. Then there is the whole business where you and your brother are not only lacking in genealogy connections, but are basically thieves, con-artists, and all-around riffraff."

Dean smirked. "You trying to hurt our feelings, Josh?"

"He's working on walking the rest of the way to Boston," Caleb growled. "That is if he can make it after I break his other leg." Reaves shifted in his seat. "Jarrett Mathews wasn't a fucking saint either. He was a kidnapper and traitor."

"His sons don't know that," Sam said, quietly.

Dean watched Caleb fold his arms over his chest, and stare out the window. "I know."

Mackland explained that Jim chose never to tarnish Jarrett's memory for his sons. He believed they had lost enough. And Jarrett had redeemed himself in the end, or at least tried to. He stood up to Griffin to save their lives. They owed him something. Dean cleared his throat. "Stick to the facts, Josh."

Joshua frowned and turned to face the oldest Winchester. "The Scholar instructed that I be honest about everything. I'm only following orders."

Dean glared at the blond. "Then skip your personal commentary." The horse head idea from the Godfather was looking better and better.

"Fine." Joshua returned his gaze to the road. "What else would you like to know?"

"You're sure that Ethan Mathews being a police officer won't put Dean in any danger?" Sam asked. "We don't exactly have a spotless record."

Dean raised his eyes to the rearview mirror again. Sam's head was down, looking at the files Mackland gave them to study. Leave it to his brother to worry about him being arrested with everything else that was going on.

"Ethan is a vice detective. He is well aware of the charges against you and your brother; but is first and foremost a hunter. I'm sure he is also quite aware of the circumstances surrounding those charges."

"Or he could just turn me in, get a bunch of accolades, knock us out of The Triad running and take over for Damien as the next Knight," Dean said.

"Contrary to what you might believe about these men, they are quite honorable."

"So this Gideon guy is a Boy Scout?" Dean glanced again to Sawyer. "He's a firefighter?" Dean found that ironic.

"Smokejumper," Joshua replied. "His father and grandfather were both firemen."

"Is he crazy? Who jumps out of a plane willingly?"

"I guess both his and Ethan's jobs lend to the lifestyle." Caleb observed. "Protect and serve."

"More so than architecture and a mediocre art career. Yes," Joshua agreed.

"Says the public relations snake," Reaves replied.

"And Elijah is a professor at Baylor University in Waco," Sam interrupted. "I'd say that goes along with being The Scholar."

Dean had to give his brother credit. The kid was trying like hell to keep their focus on the gig. "What does he teach? Secret societies 101?"

"Close," Joshua said. "I believe his areas of expertise are Ancient History and Mythology. If you're looking for the 'saint' in the trio, he would be it. Missionary work, crusades for the down-trodden and poor. I believe he volunteers at a shelter for wayward teens on the side."

"What's his ability?" Caleb asked bluntly.

Joshua lifted a brow. "You should know better than most that hunters with psychic endowments work hard to keep that part of them shrouded in mystery."

"I also know how nosy you are, and that you'll leave no rock unturned if you think valuable information is afoot."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

Dean raised his eyes to the rearview again. Caleb met his gaze for only a moment before turning back to the window. Sam and Caleb were alike in some ways. When pushed they both became dark and stormy, lashing out at those around them. It was funny to Dean that one of the things they both criticized in John Winchester was one of the traits they both chose to emulate. He turned to Joshua. "Answer his damn question, Sawyer."

"Fine. Despite your confidences, I truly don't know _exactly_ what it is that Elijah does. But I have heard he is able to tell if a person is being truthful."

"A human lie detector?" Dean laughed. "Sam and Caleb so trump that."

"They say he also has some kind of healing touch…or at least the ability to block pain receptors," Joshua added.

"Griffin can do that," Caleb said. He leaned forward. "I've seen him do it."

Dean didn't recollect the incident as much as he recalled the story of it being told to him over the years. His time spent in Griffin Porter's cabin was summoned up with only the fuzziest of details. "Makes sense if Porter trained him."

"Griffin has been responsible for most of their training along with Silas," Joshua confirmed.

"It's kind of like The Emperor and Darth Vader." Dean glanced at Caleb. "You and Sammy are Obi-wan and Luke." He flashed a grin, hoping to garner a familiar reaction. "You have the Force on your side, dude."

"I've heard through the grapevine that the teacher has not been overly joyous with his pupil's accomplishments. I've always got the impression that Griffin found Elijah somehow lacking in the 'killer' instinct he so appreciates," Joshua explained.

"I'd take healing properties over death visions any day," Caleb replied dourly. He leaned back against the seat. "And I'd be more concerned if Griffin found him a worthy apprentice."

Dean sighed. So he would be dealing with a prickly Caleb. It reminded him of the time Dad stuck them working a job in Boca Raton, Florida. Good times. "So, do the three stooges know about us? Did you give them the 411, Josh?"

Sawyer's brows drew together at the implication. "I haven't worked with them in quite some time. But I'm sure others have filled them in on the merits of the future Triad."

"So they'll probably meet us with guns drawn?"

"Mac doesn't want us to look at them as our enemy," Sam chastised his brother. "He wants us to work together."

Dean snorted at the younger hunter's optimism. "At this point, I'm considering everyone our enemy." He cut his gaze to Joshua. "Until they prove otherwise."

Joshua rolled his eyes. "What happened to the concept of innocent until proven guilty?"

"It lost its effect somewhere between my brother being possessed, framed, and Caleb nearly getting his brains splattered on the pavement by a Louisville Slugger." Dean narrowed his gaze. "And then there was that incident in Cosby, where _you_ sent in the wolves disguised in sheep's clothing. Should I go on?"

"No." Joshua shook his head. "I think you've cleared it up nicely."

"You've given us individual facts," Sam started, holding up the folders on Ethan, Elijah, and Gideon. "But we could have read most of that from their background files. What are they like together? How's their dynamic?"

"What do you mean?" Joshua frowned.

Dean realized the other man had no clue as to what his brother was referring. He almost felt sorry for Sawyer. Almost. "As a team-a unit-how do they function?" Dad always stressed that every team had an invisible member; and that member could be their biggest strength or weakness. It was the relationship they had with one another-the way they flowed together or didn't.

"Do you mean are they Three Musketeer material?" Joshua laughed easily. "Is that 'all for one and one for all' spirit you three embrace a part of their code? Would they tattoo a prison schematic on their person and commit a violent crime to rescue their brother in arms?"

Dean ignored the taunting. "That's exactly what he means, Josh."

"Elijah and Ethan are twins." Sawyer glanced at Dean and then continued on in a matter of fact manner. "They were raised by their father after their mother absconded with an insurance salesman. I suppose they have a typical sibling bond, perhaps closer for having shared a womb. They still share their childhood home. A horse ranch in Texas. Gideon lives nearby. He and Ethan seem to have the traditional Guardian and Knight relationship. They grew up together. They're close. Probably meet for beers, watch the game, and participate in the ogling of attractive women every weekend. " Joshua smirked, and Dean was sure he saw a flash of jealousy. "Don't feel bad though, I'm quite certain they don't have endearing nicknames for one another, _Deuce_."

"That's a relief." Dean refused to rise to the bait. "Hate to think we're not original."

"No one could ever accuse you three of being mundane."

"So they probably react like we do to situations," Sam theorized.

"It depends on their mission and their priorities, Runt," Caleb replied. "Two men can reach the same destination on very different paths."

"Like the fox and the rabbit," Dean spoke up. Motivation was a determining factor in most things. Dad was a big believer in knowing your opponent's soul.

Caleb met Dean's gaze in the mirror and nodded. "One's chasing his dinner; the other is running for his life."

Dean returned his eyes to the road before him. They wouldn't know what the three hunters were really after or what made them tick until they were in the middle of things. It was the unknown variables in an equation that could come back to bite you in the ass. Dean could only rely on what he knew. And that was Caleb and Sam. He was also sure of something else. "We're not ending up on anyone's dinner plate."

RcJSnsnsnsNRcJ

The rest of the drive to Tufts University was painlessly quick. Still, Sam had long since grown tired of playing referee in the verbal boxing match between Caleb and Joshua. He felt a sudden surge of empathy for his brother, who had found himself in a much worse position between Sam and their father over the years. As it was, Sam was exhausted and on edge. He wanted to be anywhere but trapped in the car with Joshua's biting sarcasm and Caleb's not-so-empty threats.

Sam glanced around at the scenery as his brother carefully maneuvered the Impala into one of the spots along the tree-lined streets in front of Riley's dorm. The campus was nothing like Stanford, and Sam was not enthused with the idea of returning to a university setting.

Caleb must have picked up on his apprehension because he cast him an empathetic look. "We won't be here long, Runt."

Sam forced a smile. "I'd go almost anywhere to get out of this car."

"Even Clownville?" Caleb quirked a brow. "You nearly wet your pants."

"Shut up." Sam glowered, but the Vegas reference lifted his dark mood minutely, and he was grateful. "Next leg of the journey, Joshua's riding back here."

"With you," Caleb quickly added, angling his long frame out of the car. "I call shotgun from here on out."

"Fine with me," Dean replied, already out of the Impala. He glanced to Caleb. "As long as you don't touch the radio."

"That's an inane rule," Joshua said, rubbing his hand that Dean had whacked. "Truly a vehicle is like one's home-especially when said owner of the car has no home to speak of. Therefore, the passenger is a guest and should be offered hospitality instead of dictated torture."

"I offered you refreshments," Dean retorted. "What more do you want?"

"M&M's and a questionably distilled bottle of water is not my idea of munificence."

Sam grabbed his laptop and closed the door as Joshua did his best to look put upon. Like Caleb, he had little patience for the spoiled hunter's antics. "He keeps the Perrier and crab puffs in a cooler in the back. All you had to do was ask."

Joshua cut his eyes, disappointedly. "I used to like you best. Now I fear you've gone the way of the dark side."

"In more ways than one," Sam muttered under his breath, his moroseness finding him once more. He jutted his chin towards the large brick building. This is it. Riley's room is 304."

"Let's get this over with then." Caleb started around the front of the car. "The sooner we talk to the kid, the sooner we can go to The Boonedocks-get this whole damn mess over with."

Joshua didn't look enthused, but he followed after Reaves as did Dean. Sam reached out and caught his brother's arm. "You guys go ahead. We'll feed the meter and be right up."

Caleb turned to meet their gazes, but a slight nod from Dean had him continuing on. Dean watched the other hunters' progress for a moment before turning to Sam. He gave his brother an exasperated look. "What?"

"You think Joshua's being completely honest about all this? It wouldn't be the first time he left important things out or skated around the truth."

"I don't think Joshua knows how to be completely honest. Mackland told him to be straight. I don't trust him; but I think he's too smart to go against The Scholar."

"Unless he's working with Ian." Sam knew exactly what his brother was thinking. "He could be their inside man."

Dean sighed. "Double agents can be valuable."

"So says the Art of War."

Dean smirked. "And James Bond."

"This whole situation is getting more and more complicated, Dean. More is riding on us getting you out of this deal than just your life now. You realize that. Right?"

"Not that again." Dean shook his head. "I thought we decided to drop the whole finding me a 'get out of hell free' card."

"It's not going to matter if we stop Porter and Ian if you're not alive." Not to Sam. Not to Caleb either. Without Dean their Triad would be over before it even started.

"Damn it, Sammy. You're like a fucking dog with a bone. The Brotherhood will be just fine without me. Hell, it will probably do better with someone like this Gideon character in the lead."

"Did you tell, Mac?"

"I didn't have to. He already knew."

Sam nodded. "Bobby?"

"Yes. Singer sang like the parrot he is."

"He loves you, man. They both do." Bobby and Mackland would do anything for Dean. Sam knew that was true. "They're trying to help you."

"Like you're trying to help me?"

"Yes. If you'll let me." Sam gripped his arm. "Please."

Dean stepped back, shrugged out of his brother's hold. "The only thing I want you to do Sam is keep your head in the game- _this_ game. The one where we stop Porter and Ian from ruining everything Jim Murphy stood for. Pastor Jim deserves that for all he did for us and Dad. You understand me?"

"I understand Jim would have done anything to save you. He was willing to give up everything, even his life, to get us back during the whole Porter kidnapping." Sam didn't remember the kidnapping, but he had heard the stories. Read the accounts of it in his father's and Caleb's journals. "What would he think about you so willingly throwing your future away? A future he planned for you."

Dean's eyes glistened and Sam realized it was low of him to pull the Pastor Jim card. "He'd understand. He would have expected as much."

Sam shook his head at his brother's single-minded stubbornness. "Did Mackland at least tell you to tell Caleb the truth? We're going to be in a dangerous situation. We don't need secrets between us…any more tension than there already is. You know what Dad always said about the team dynamic." Sam felt like a hypocrite preaching the need for honesty when he had a secret of his own.

Dean laughed. "Mackland told me not to tell him _because _of the dangerous situation we're going to be in. Caleb doesn't need to be thinking about anything but finding the weapons before Porter does. Dad always said the mission was the most important directive. And our team is fine. We've got each others' backs. That's all that matters."

"Caleb's already distracted by other things, Dean. Like Noah Seaver's amulet. Have you thought that maybe his vision or whatever it was has something to do with your deal?" Sam hadn't missed the change in the other psychic. He couldn't help but to think of the secret studio in their friend's apartment-the paintings of the dark, stormy seas. It did not bode for a calm voyage.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course I thought of that. It's one of the reasons I'm holding back on telling him I'll be saying hello to his great-grand-dad real soon."

Sam sighed. Maybe some of his reasoning was selfish. Despite what Dean said and did; Sam knew his brother was scared. If he wouldn't talk to him, maybe he would confide in Caleb. "If he knows your life is in danger, it could help him refocus."

"Damn it." Dean growled menacingly, and stepped forward into his brother's personal space. "You know that's not true. You know he will try and do whatever it takes to stop it from happening. And that could get one or both of you killed. That's not a fucking option."

"Right." Sam nodded. "No one can sacrifice themselves but you."

"You got it." Dean poked a finger towards his brother's chest. "You've said it before. Caleb's my best friend. That means I get to decide when and how to tell him, Sammy. Is that clear?"

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Crystal."

Dean smirked and roughly patted his cheek. "Good. Now that you've got your little bitch fit out of your system, let's go check out the adventures of the young Indiana Jones."

_RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

Dean hadn't missed the mark. Riley Adams's dorm room was covered in movie posters. Copies of the original marquees from the three Indiana Jones films as well as Lara Croft- Tomb Raider, decorated the walls. A classic weather-worn fedora and leather whip took up space on one small desk, along with a Stonehenge replica and Darth Vader coin bank. There were two beds, a television and a very intricate stereo system. It was small and the presence of four grown men averaging six foot plus was smothering. It was like Riley had invited the big boys into his kid-sized playhouse. "Nice digs," Dean muttered, forcing himself into the cramped quarters.

"Oh, man. I can't believe you came. Wow."

Dean looked at the lanky kid in front of him. The boy was dressed in ripped jeans, a My Chemical Romance t-shirt and mismatched socks. His strawberry blond hair was mussed, sticking out in several directions, and he had an overall rumpled look as if he had just tumbled out of bed. It reminded Dean of a younger version of Sam. The kid's brown eyes were just as full of curiosity and intelligence; although Dean didn't recall Sam bouncing quite so much. "Yeah." Dean wasn't quite sure how to respond in the face of all the enthusiasm. "It's a shock."

"Riley, this is Dean and Sam Winchester." Caleb roughly nudged past Joshua in the tight space to introduce the latecomers. "Guys, this is Riley."

"Winchester! No sh-way! In my dorm room! Dean Winchester! You're a legend! A legend!"

Dean glanced at Caleb, who was at least looking somewhat amused. He'd take cocky and smug over pissed any day. "You hear that, Damien? I'm a legend."

"Eat it up, Deuce. It's the closest you're getting to a fan club."

Riley turned his awestruck gaze to Sam. "Sorry to hear about your dad. Must suck. " He raked a hand through his hair. "Man, I got to call Bradley." He looked to Caleb. "Your dad hooked us up. I mean when The Scholar calls-its like, yes, sir, no, sir. You know?"

"Yeah. We know all about it, kid," Caleb replied. Riley darted past him to retrieve his cell phone.

"Is he always this excitable?" Sam whispered. "It's like the Energizer Bunny on speed."

Joshua snorted. "Riley has always reminded me of one of those hamsters on a wheel-a poster child for ADHD. I once suggested medication to Kathleen; but she didn't warm to the idea."

Caleb snorted. "And you wonder why she's so taken with you."

Dean smirked at Sawyer. "You're just jealous because Riley doesn't want an action figure or trading card of you. I'm probably a character in the kid's own version of The Brotherhood RPG."

"You know what an RPG is?" Sam asked, skeptically.

"I hooked up with a chick who was into it once." Dean tried for indignant. Sometimes Sam acted as if Dean lived in a cave. "I thought she was a werewolf. Found out she just took her self _playing _one on-line very seriously."

"I think Dad's Geek Squad would frown on the idea of World Wide Web exposure of an RPG." Caleb claimed one of the chairs and picked up a crystal pyramid-shaped paper weight. "We are a 'secret' society after all."

Dean snorted. "There are plenty of secrets within The Brotherhood, without us ever going public."

"Tightly affiliated subculture groups often have an aura of mystery surrounding their inner workings." Riley rejoined them once more. He crossed his arms over his chest, preventing them from flailing about; but continued to sway back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet as he studied the men around him. "Think Free Masons or Knights of the Round Table. Bradley's on his way."

Dean could feel the barely restrained energy as the boy focused on him. He shifted, uncomfortable with the intense scrutiny. Riley looked like he was about to ask for his autograph or worse, hug him. "Mac said you're studying our little subculture?"

Riley nodded enthusiastically and darted once more towards his desk where he retrieved his laptop. "I've been studying it for years. Made it a project of sorts." He shrugged one shoulder as he claimed a corner of his bed. "Some kids like baseball cards or video gaming; I like puzzles and mysteries."

"And you just happened to be born into The Brotherhood, which is one heck of a mystery," Sam said.

"Oh yeah." Riley grinned. "I mean Dad didn't exactly let me get involved in any of the cool elements of The Brotherhood stuff and you know he retired from active duty when he knocked up my mom; but I picked up a lot just hanging out at the bar. No one ever really noticed me. You wouldn't believe what you hear when you're the equivalent of a fly on the wall."

Dean pointed to the bandage on the side of Riley's head. "Your Dad probably didn't want you wracking up too many of those."

"This." Riley touched his bandaged head and his face brightened further. "Is way cool."

"A concussion is cool?" Caleb frowned. "Wait until you've had one too many, kid."

"And you end up nearly a vegetable like Caleb," Dean added with an evil grin tossed towards Reaves. Sometimes the man made it so easy. "We're sure he's going to pay for it in his old age."

"I wouldn't worry. Knights usually sustain mortal wounds in the throws of battle," Riley reported as his fingers flew gracefully over the computer keys. "They typically have shortened life spans."

Dean's grin faded and he turned to look at the teen. "You've got statistical data to back that up?"

Riley glanced up. "Yes, I have charts."

"Let's skip the math lesson," Caleb spoke up, shifting the topic of conversation away from him. "How about you tell us what you know about Samuel Colt's Triad. That is why Dad sent us here."

"I'm pulling the file up now," Riley said. "We can get it out of the way and when Bradley gets here we can discuss our theory on the B-Bomb."

"B-Bomb?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. That's what we nicknamed the possible weapon to take out The Brotherhood."

"How creative," Joshua replied, haughtily. "Have you two done drawings? Put together a comic about it perhaps?"

Riley laughed. "Dude, we're not eleven."

"Of course not." Joshua pulled a coin from his blazer jacket and dropped it in the top of Darth Vader's head. A heavy asthmatic-like breathing resonated from the toy and then the Empire Strikes Back theme filled the tiny room. "You're obviously mature beyond your years."

"Now _that _is way cool." Dean grinned. He slapped Caleb on the arm. "Damien, give me a quarter."

"What do I look like?" Caleb growled. He dug in his jean pockets and pulled out a handful of change and some lint. He handed it all to Dean. "Knock yourself out but that's coming out of your allowance."

"I rest my case." Joshua smirked as Dean happily dropped two more coins into Darth Vader.

Sam snatched the bank away, giving his brother a reprimanding look. "Remember the vibrating bed, Dean." He set the toy on the other desk. "You have no self-control."

"Buzz Kill." Dean sighed. He turned back to Riley. "So, Indy, give us the spiel on the Wild, Wild West Triad."

"A lot of it you probably already know. I mean the bit about the gun and how Colt made it for a hunter. That hunter was The Knight, Cole Tanner."

"Have you found out exactly how he created it? I mean what made it supernatural?" Sam asked.

Dean wouldn't mind knowing that bit of information. If they could restore the Colt; then that would give them a one-up on the demon mob running about. Unfortunately, Riley frowned.

"Sorry. That's still unclear. But it could have something to do with Samuel Colt's abilities. As a Scholar he was probably psychic in some nature."

"And what were his abilities?" Caleb asked.

Dean cut his eyes to his friend. Caleb had traded the paper weight in for a stress ball in George Bush's likeness.

"Unclear also," Riley replied.

"Great." Caleb tossed the ball to Dean and leaned forward so his elbows were resting on his knees. "What exactly is clear, kid?"

"Well, Samuel Colt was definitely a hunter."

"How did that happen?" Sam asked. "Because when I researched, nothing even hinted at the remote possibility."

Dean laughed, tossing the ball into the air and catching it. "If any of us bought the farm right now Sammy, I doubt 'he was a great hunter' would be listed in our obits."

Sam ignored him. "Was he born into a hunting family?"

Riley looked up. "No. But at the age of eleven he was indentured to a farm in Glastonbury."

"And shoveling manure and plowing fields is important, why?" Dean tossed the ball back to Caleb.

"Well." Riley pushed at his long bangs that were obscuring his vision. "The history books list it as a detail mostly because it is accredited for sparking Colt's interest in inventing. But after reading his journal you realize that wasn't the only interest he came away with."

Dean leaned against the desk, folded his arms over his chest. Getting information from Riley was a little like pulling teeth, slow and painful. "What was so special about the farm?"

"Not what, but who. It was owned by Wade Wilmington."

"Wilmington as in Daniel Wilmington-The Guardian?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." Riley hit a button on the computer and a printer whirred to life on the other side of the room. "Wade was his father."

"That explains how Samuel and Daniel met," Sam surmised.

"Cole Tanner lived there too," Riley informed them. "Wade Wilmington was his uncle. Wade's sister, Cole's mother, died of Yellow Fever." Riley maneuvered his way around discarded books, CD's, and tennis shoes to retrieve the papers from the printer. "Cole was five when it happened. There was no father in the picture so he went to live with his uncle. Wade had a small son of his own, Daniel, who was three at the time."

"And this Wade was a hunter-a member of The Brotherhood?"

"Right." Riley answered Caleb. He handed the stack of papers to him. "As was his father and his father before him. This is all the stuff I dug up on Wade, Daniel and Cole. It's not much, just basic birth and death records as well as deeds of property. Mackland believes that Wade's journal is probably with the other missing ones from that time period-maybe with the weapons. But it all fits together once you read Samuel Colt's journal."

"So, both The Guardian and The Knight were from true blood lines?" Joshua asked, peering over Caleb's shoulder to get a look at the information.

Riley shrugged. "I suppose."

"Like that's important?" Caleb gave him an irritated look.

"It can be." Joshua defended. "Just look at your situation."

Caleb stood up, getting in Joshua's face. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Damien." Dean stepped between the two older hunters. "Ease up. He's just jacking his jaw."

"I merely meant that a Triad is rarely questioned if the proposed members are ingrained in hunting for several generations."

"But Samuel Colt wasn't from a traditional hunting family," Sam pointed out.

"No." Riley shook his head. "He was brought into the business by Wade, who became his mentor. Samuel was the same age as Cole when he came to live at the farm. So when he trained the other boys, he included Samuel."

"That was a risk; bringing in an outsider." Dean waited until Caleb reclaimed his seat before he moved away from the older hunter.

"Especially directly into a position of power," Sam added.

Joshua laughed. "It was a risk that Jim Murphy chose to take several times over."

Dean cut his eyes to Sawyer. The older hunter's brain and mouth seemed unable to communicate today. He should have let Caleb pummel him. "Sometimes new blood is called for."

"Samuel lived at the farm for five years," Riley interrupted. "Wade was like a father to him, Cole and Daniel like brothers. I doubt if it ever crossed his mind to rat them out to anyone."

"You're right, kid." Caleb spoke up. He looked at Joshua. "Sometimes loyalty and breeding have nothing to do with each other."

"If Samuel had abilities, then Wade may have also been able to help with those-give him an explanation and training that most 'normal' people would not have had a clue about."

Dean glanced to his brother. Sam was still trying to stay on target. In this situation he was thankful for his little brother's tenacity. Unfortunately, Riley seemed unable to confirm Sam's speculation.

"That's definitely a theory."

"It would help if we knew what his abilities were," Caleb insisted.

Dean wondered if Caleb's sudden need to be aware of other psychic's abilities was due to their impending meeting with Griffin. "It doesn't matter. He's not around to use them." Dean was going to make sure Griffin didn't have a chance to use his abilities either.

"Whatever they were, I doubt if they were prophetic. Like yours." Riley looked up. He glanced from Caleb to Sam. "I mean both of you get like death visions. Right?"

Dean barely contained his laugh as the college student leaned conspiratorially closer to Caleb. He was sure the kid was going to start salivating. "You can read what I'm thinking right now too? Can't you?"

Caleb leaned back in his chair and smirked. "Yes." He tilted his head slightly. "And no, I'm not seeing you getting any action from the cute brunette down the hall."

Sam tapped the back of the lap top, reclaiming the younger man's attention. "What makes you sure that Samuel didn't have precognitive abilities, Riley?"

"He didn't save Cole or Daniel."

Dean recognized the look of dread that flashed through his brother's eyes, watched his lanky frame tense ever so slightly. "How'd they die?" His brother often berated himself for not being able to save those closest to him. Dean knew it was one of the reasons Sam was having such a hard time with the deal he had made.

"The historical records have them listed as victims of the Arapaho. History claims they were tortured and killed by a raiding party."

"But we all know how 'history' screws things up," Caleb said.

Riley nodded. "In his journal, Samuel wrote they were tortured and murdered by a small group of hunters led by one of the most trusted members of The Brotherhood. His name was Malachi Harris; he was the Triad's mystic."

"Why would their own turn against them?" Sam asked.

"Malachi accused Cole Tanner of being responsible for the fire in Noah Seaver's church."

"But we know it was Noah Seaver who started the fire."

Riley looked suddenly uncomfortable and Dean didn't blame him. The kid obviously was smart and knew enough of their history to be wary of the topic. "We know the yellow-eyed demon caused the deaths of the congregation." At least Dean could reframe the conversation as Jim used to.

Riley licked his lips, pushed his long bangs. "Malachi said Cole traded the amulet to the preacher."

"Traded it for what?" Caleb asked.

"His wife."

"Come again?" Dean was sure he hadn't heard the kid right. "Did you say his wife?"

"Cole was in love with Seaver's wife."

"So when the radical preacher came up with the amulet, Malachi put two and two together," Sam said, guessing at where Riley was going.

"And came up with five," Dean concluded. "Assumptions are the root of all evil."

Sam nodded. "If there was a faction itching for power, they probably jumped on the first chance they got to incriminate a member of The Triad.

Riley looked at them. "Samuel believed Malachi betrayed Cole's confidence to gain a foot up. He wrote that Cole Tanner had nothing to do with giving the weapon to Seaver. He and Daniel Wilmington defended their friend's innocence vehemently."

"Of course being his best friends I'd say they would be inclined to turn a blind eye to the man's shortcomings."

Dean glared at Joshua. Sawyer raised his hand. "I'm merely playing devil's advocate."

"Well neither of them could explain how Noah Seaver came to have the amulet. It had belonged to The Brotherhood for centuries. And unfortunately neither could Cole. It was kept at Daniel's ranch where Cole Tanner also lived. Only The Triad had access to it."

"And Malachi?" Dean interjected. As their confidant the man would have probably been a welcomed guest at the farm. Like Bobby or Missouri at Jim's. "He could have taken the amulet."

"Or the wife," Joshua speculated. "A desperate woman can be driven to extreme means to escape a bad marriage."

Dean looked at Sawyer. From what he knew of Harland Sawyer, he was certain the other hunter was speaking from experience. "You could have a point. If Cole and Noah's wife were getting it on, then she could have pocketed it by cuddling up to Cole. Maybe Tanner was protecting her."

Caleb shook his head. "Sounds about right." He ran a hand over his mouth. "Satanists, murderers, and now adulterous whores. My family tree is just bursting with rotten fruit."

"Samuel alluded to the same thing." Riley's face blushed slightly. "Not that you're family was evil or anything…I mean…"

"What did Colt believe, Indy?" Dean asked, before the kid hyperventilated.

"He believed Seaver's wife probably attempted to buy her husband off, to get out of the marriage. But as you know things did not go well after Noah took possession of the amulet."

"The yellow-eyed demon took possession of him."

"And the rest is history." Caleb sighed. "Did Samuel say what he thought happened to the woman and the baby?"

"Only that he was certain she and her son had gotten away safely."

Dean shared a look with Caleb. "Meaning Cole or maybe the entire Triad made sure of it."

Riley shrugged. "Whether they did or not, Malachi and his men accused them of doing just that. When the speculations about the child being demonic came to light, Cole was accused of harboring them."

"They had enough circumstantial evidence to create a lot of doubt."

"From what I can gather from the text, Samuel and Daniel Wilmington, The Guardian tried for damage control. But in the end, Daniel was forced to move the location of the weapons. He, Samuel and Cole devised a plan to keep the location hidden, trusting no one."

"And they took it to their graves with them," Dean said, glumly. He had no connections to the former Triad except for the silver ring he wore; but Dean had no problem imagining himself, Caleb and Sam in the same type of situation. A similar fate had befallen Jim and Dad. It was another reason to relish the release the deal would offer him. He couldn't imagine being left behind like Samuel Colt or Mackland.

"Yeah," Riley continued, "Colt lived for about a decade after they died. Enough time to reunite The Brotherhood, round up the demons who Noah Seaver had unleashed and create the railroad devil's trap in Wyoming."

"Whatever happened to Malachi Harris?" Joshua asked.

Riley sighed. "Sorry. That's one of those unclear parts."

"Colt killed him," Sam spoke up.

Dean looked at him in surprise. His brother's tone left no room for doubt. "And you know that how, Sammy?"

The younger Winchester shrugged. "Because that's what I would have done."

Riley gazed at Sam. "Cool."

RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ

A knock on the door interrupted the silence. Sam was glad for the reprieve. He hadn't meant to vocalize his thoughts. Everyone looking at him was unnerving.

"That must be Bradley." Riley stood up and moved towards the door.

Joshua and Sam had to relocate to the other side of the room to make way for the college student to wade past them. "Dormitory life was not something I was willing to endure," Sawyer muttered.

"Not everyone has that choice," Sam replied, remembering how thankful he was just to be at Stanford. He would have lived in a cardboard box in the commons if it meant he could go to classes. His dorm room had seemed like a palace compared to the places he had lived with his dad and Dean.

"Ask who it is," Caleb and Dean ordered at the same time; but Riley had already pulled the door open without a second thought.

Sam both envied his innocence and felt sorry for the reaming he was about to get. "He's in for it."

"Deservedly so." Joshua surprised Sam by agreeing with him.

"Damn it, kid!" Caleb swore as Riley planted himself out in the open, right in front of the door.

"Can Mac get him a fucking training video or something?" Dean growled as he moved forward to grab the student's arm and physically move him out of the way. "How _not _to make yourself a walking target."

"What'd I do?" Riley asked as he was roughly maneuvered out of the way. Caleb crossed the room in three long strides to the newcomer lingering in the doorway.

"Riley?"

Sam gave the stranger credit. He crossed the threshold without hesitation, moving toe to toe with Reaves. The guy was shorter than Caleb by several inches and lacked the muscle mass Caleb worked hard at keeping. He kept his intense blue gaze focused on Reaves as the man glared at him. "Who are you? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah." Riley waved. "Check it out, Bradley. The Triad's here." He turned to look up at Dean. "That's Bradley."

Bradley didn't look quite as impressed as Riley. He warily eyed Reaves and then Dean, who still had a hold of Riley's arm. Sam imagined Bradley wasn't quite convinced it was a friendly situation.

"And that's a good thing, right?"

"Are you kidding?" Riley finally evaded Dean and greeted his friend. "Dean and Sam Winchester, Dude! Caleb Reaves! I've told you all about them."

Joshua cleared his throat. Riley sighed. "And that's Joshua Sawyer. He's like a warlock."

Bradley frowned. "A what?"

"No, I most certainly am not."

Sam moved forward, nudging Caleb back out of the kid's personal space. "I'm Sam."

"Hey." Bradley accepted Sam's hand in a firm grasp. "Bradley."

Riley bounced on his toes, reached for Dean's arm. "This is what I've been telling you about. Check out the rings."

Dean slapped the kid's hand away. "No touching, Indy."

"I'm Caleb Reaves." Caleb stepped around Sam. "I know your mom."

"Right, Mac's son." Bradley's posture relaxed. He shook Caleb's hand. "Mom told me some crazy stories about you. Some of them make more sense now."

Sam watched Caleb grin. "All true." He gestured to Riley. "Mac said he introduced you two."

"Yeah. Mom introduced me to Dr. Ames last spring. I spent a semester in Australia, and got stuck with the aborigines for a bit-saw some shit that just blew my mind. Mom said your dad had done some research into the paranormal, so I talked to him."

Dean laughed. "And you didn't run away?"

Bradley shrugged. "I'm an anthropology major. Of course I believe in secret societies. And it helped to know I wasn't going insane."

"Yeah, Mac takes his job as a shrink seriously." Dean looked at Riley. "He also takes being the remaining member of The Triad seriously. I doubt he would like having to tell your dad you were dead."

"What?" Riley choked.

"Dean's right, kid." Caleb pointed a finger at him. "You've got to be careful now. No more opening the door without checking who it is first. This is a whole different ballgame. You have to know who you can trust."

"He's already had one hospital visit this week," Bradley joined in and Sam knew exactly how Riley felt. "I've tried to explain the potential dangers."

"I get the point." Riley shrugged. "But I'm an adult, you know._ Eighteen._"

Sam couldn't hold back his laugh. "I've got you beat by six years, dude and _I'm _not considered an adult." He glanced to Caleb and then his brother. "It'll be easier if you just accept it now."

"Whatever." Riley moved back to his computer. "I thought you guys were here to find out information, not impart your vast wisdom."

"Ooh," Joshua perked up. "I'm liking him better. The shine wears off quickly doesn't it?"

"Shut up, Josh," Dean said. He motioned Bradley in and closed the door. "Indy's right. We need to get back to business."

Bradley slid his backpack from his shoulders and unzipped it. "I brought the proposal Riley and I outlined when Dr. Ames asked us to research the possibility of this theoretical weapon of destruction."

"Proposal?"

"Well, more like a very sketchy outline."

"Yeah, it's kind of like what archeologists do when they uncover a shard of a pottery or a couple of bones on a dig." Riley's voice was full of wonder again; his moment of petulance obviously forgotten. "They take what concrete evidence they find and then do a lot of projection and take some creative liberty to make educated guesses about the end result."

"So you and your buddy Brad pulled a bunch of shit out of thin air?" Dean asked.

"Actually it's Bradley; and most of what we've outlined is based on highly reputable conjecture."

"They pulled a bunch of shit out of thin air," Caleb concluded.

"You two have something better?" Sam asked. He looked from Caleb to Dean. "You do realize most of The Brotherhood's history is based on folklore and myth?"

"So's most of what we deal with on a daily basis, Sammy," Dean pointed out. "Mermaids, zombies, and vampires aren't actually counted in the US census."

"Exactly my point." Sam folded his arms over his chest in victory. He looked at Bradley. "Go on."

"Well we started with the idea that Merlin began The Brotherhood. Some of the oldest hunters' journals still around support that theory and speak of the stories passed down from the past generations who didn't keep written records."

"We know about Merlin." Caleb nodded. "He founded The Brotherhood as a sort of extension of The Knights of the Round Table, only on a supernatural level."

"Yes." Bradley flipped through a small leather notebook, found the page he was searching for and looked up. "From what I could uncover Merlin was determined to create an army of 'men who would hunt down the devils that walked among the blinded masses.'

"Meaning he would spare civilization their blessed ignorance by forming a group that would battle their unknown enemy for them," Joshua stated.

"A thankless job, but a righteous one," Bradley agreed. "He'd learned from The Knights of the Round Table that a trusted foundation had to govern the group. So he sought out the most extraordinary of men to lead his 'Brotherhood'."

"He couldn't find just one man with all the qualities he was looking for," Riley jumped in. "So he chose three and bestowed special gifts to them."

"The three had to be connected." Bradley turned the book he was holding around, showing it to the hunters. On the pages three interlocking circles were drawn. "Unbreakable with no beginning or ending."

"Merlin believed besides being loyal to one another they needed the most valuable things the universe offered-knowledge, strength, and heart," Riley continued on. " And they needed magic, so he offered them each a gift of himself."

Bradley picked up again. Sam had to give them credit. The two worked well in tandem. It was like a practiced script. "To the Scholar he gave a crystal ball, 'Merlin's Eye', which would allow him to see the future clearly and use his wisdom wisely, which is probably how psychic abilities began in that line. To the Knight he bestowed a magical blade, the Dragon's Talon."

Caleb raised a brow. "Like Excalibur?"

"No." Bradley shook his head. "I don't think so. Not a sword. From the descriptions I found it sounds more like a knife or an athame. Legend has it that it could cut down any enemy whether human or not-even demons. It was forged in a dragon's flame."

"Wouldn't mind getting my hands on that," Caleb said.

"You might have your chance." Bradley informed him. "All of these 'gifts' could be with the store of weapons."

"Which makes them even more dangerous," Sam concluded. "What about the Guardian? What did Merlin give him?"

"The ability to create the silver. You see, the texts say that Merlin gave the Guardian a piece of his soul and that The Guardian would continue to give that by giving the rings. Through The Guardian, others would know Merlin and his magic."

"That has a highly religious tone to it," Joshua spoke up. "Almost like the Christian theme of knowing God through Christ."

"Merlin did have a god complex." Bradley smiled.

"Must be common among magicians, right Josh?" Caleb smirked. In response Sawyer crossed his arms.

Bradley nodded to Dean's hand. "See Merlin believed The Guardian had to have a true heart and a pure spirit. The Guardian was judged in each generation, and so only one that truly met those requirements can call forth the silver."

"Judged? By who?" Caleb frowned.

Sam noticed Dean was silent, and wondered if he knew the answer.

"Our best educated guess because it was mentioned once, and we aren't completely sure. . . " Riley rambled on a bit.

"The Lady of the Lake," Bradley concluded for his friend.

"You're kidding me." Caleb snorted. "Somehow a woman had to be involved. You going to shed any light on this?"

Dean twisted his ring. "No, not really. I kinda like to keep you guessing."

Bradley eyed Caleb's hand. "Do they do anything? I mean, can I look at one up close?"

Dean and Caleb shared reluctant looks, neither seemingly willing to hand over their rings. Sam still did not wear his ring, keeping Bobby's charm close to ward off possession instead.

Joshua must have also noticed the hesitancy. "For the love of …" Sawyer grumbled, pulling his own ring off and handing it to the anthropology student. "The Wonder Twins may lose their super human strength if they remove their bands."

"As long as it took you to get yours, I'm surprised you're so willing to part with it," Caleb replied.

Bradley took the silver ring and turned it over in his hand. "They're given as a rite of passage?" He looked at Joshua and then to Caleb. "At the age of twenty-one?"

"Eighteen for some of us," Dean said. He shot a look to Joshua. "Mid-twenties for others."

"One wrong deed can delay any accolade in our ranks," Sawyer explained with unexpected candor. "I made a poor choice." He glanced at Dean. "One I paid for and learned from."

"It varies with everyone," Riley spoke up. "But the statistics hold with most hunters being twenty-one. They usually get their ring after they've performed an act of bravery or used their particular talents in a very spectacular way."

"Like in the Masia tribe the adolescents have to kill a lion before they are accepted as men." Bradley surmised. He held the ring up to the light, continuing to study it. "Many cultures have similar rituals."

Dean snorted. "In our group, I basically have to almost die before someone's getting any silver."

"I told you that was a coincidence, Deuce."

"Yeah, well a scar's a scar." Dean looked at Bradley. "And for the record, we kill lots of things worse than a lion."

Bradley met his gaze. "So I've heard."

"Sam was sixteen," Riley said out of the blue, breaking the tension with his exuberant proclamation. "I haven't found another case like his. It's unprecedented."

The younger Winchester ducked his head in embarrassment, hoping the subject could be changed. "It wasn't that big of a deal."

"Are you kidding?" Riley bounced in his seat. "It's huge."

Bradley cleared his throat. "And these rings are given by The Guardian as a symbol of allegiance and solidarity. It provides protection as well as a place of honor. Has anyone ever tried to determine where he gets them or how he creates them? There is no mention of it in any of the previous Guardian journals."

Joshua, Caleb and Sam looked to Dean.

This time Dean ducked his head in embarrassment. "Look, don't you think The Guardian would probably keep that little trick a secret?"

Joshua waved his hand. "Secrets are what The Brotherhood is based on. After all, hunters are human with all the human fallacies of lust, greed and jealously. I daresay Samuel Colt's Triad would not have found themselves in the fix they did if not for that fact. We also would not be a part of this cat and mouse chase for this elusive B-Bomb you two gentleman have yet to fully explain to us."

Sam was surprised Joshua had not allowed the uncomfortable moment to continue. Instead he had given Dean a way out, and furthered the conversation.

"B-Bomb is more of a failsafe created by Merlin than a weapon meant to be used by an enemy of The Brotherhood." Bradley flipped through another book. "Merlin is considered the first alchemist."

"Alchemist?" Dean glanced at his brother. Sam was about to explain, but Joshua interrupted.

"Alchemy is an ancient art devoted mainly to discovering a substance that would transform the more common metals into gold or silver, and to finding a means of indefinitely prolonging human life. Think Philosopher's Stone, by far the most famous of alchemy treasures. Alchemy is the beginnings of chemistry and medicine. Merlin was more than the David Copperfield of his time. He was a genius."

Sam shook his head, feeling as though Joshua was referring to himself more than Merlin. Caleb must of picked up on the same thing.

"God complex," Caleb muttered, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

"He's right. We believe the substance that Dr. Ames is worried will become a weapon is actually a special compound that when mixed with Merlin's blood becomes an elixir that destroys the source of silver and all rings ever brought forth from the source." Bradley turned another page. It was a drawing, a supposed depiction of Merlin standing in front of a medieval chemistry set.

"Wait, why did Merlin even create something that could destroy The Brotherhood, the one he created?" Caleb asked, rubbing a hand down his mouth.

"In case The Brotherhood got corrupted and infiltrated," Riley explained. "And then The Guardian would destroy the current Brotherhood, resetting it in a way."

"How would The Guardian do that?" Sam could usually see how the pieces of a puzzle worked together, but this went beyond logic. "And why Merlin's blood?"

"Yeah." Dean spoke up. "That's sounding a little too Angelina Jolie and Billy Bob Thornton to me."

"Again, the job of Guardian doesn't really have a lot of description." Bradley cleared his throat, and then moved his hand to scratch the back of his neck. "And Merlin's blood would have been a compound of unimagineable stength. But one thing we're sure of is that The Guardian would know how to use the elixir."

Sam shifted his gaze towards his brother, as did the other occupants of the room.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Stop looking at me. I don't have some sort of handbook with the answers. Right now either of your jobs sounds better."

Sam fidgeted. He wasn't sure he was the best choice for The Scholar, but at least he had the basics on what the position entailed, as did Caleb and his station of Knight. "Don't you think that this liquid is dried up by now? We're not going to be getting any more of Merlin's blood because that's not exactly abundant." Sam commented.

"Something similar to Merlin's blood could be used with the compound to form the elixir. . ." Riley offered, and gave a nod to Bradley. Sam saw the gesture, recognizing it as a sign of a past conversation.

"Hate to burst your bubble; but I doubt if we'll open a tomb and find some ancient magician hanging out waiting to be relieved of duty," Dean said making reference to Indiana Jones.

"Merlin was half demon and half human." Bradley looked at Caleb. "Isn't that similar to your…"

Sam saw his brother's stance change. "Hell no!" Dean spat. "What the hell are you saying?"

"Deuce!" Caleb caught his friend's arm. "Let him finish."

Sam stood up, sharing, in secret, Caleb's same blood mix. He had been tainted by the demon too.

Bradley put out his hands in a calming gesture. "I'm not trying to be insulting. Just look at it as a 'blood type', like O-positive. If Merlin used O-positive, then someone wanting to recreate the elixir would also need O-positive."

"So, you think my blood is the weapon?" Caleb asked.

"No, your blood, or a person with blood similar to that of Merlin's, would be the detonator."

Sam looked down at his hands, and the raised veins. It was unsettling to know there was so much evil within him and that he could bring about the destruction of something as powerful as The Brotherhood. Sam clenched his fists, and watched Caleb emote his concerns.

"Great." Caleb ran a hand over his mouth, then looked at Dean. "This day just keeps getting better, man."

"All of this is conjecture, Damien. Just like we said, shit pulled out of thin air."

Sam looked down. It wasn't just speculation for him. He had seen, through the demon, the blood trickling to his lips. He wished he had the courage to share his lineage with Dean and Caleb. He sought refuge in his silence.

"Like Elkins pulled the Noah Seaver story out of thin air?" Caleb swallowed thickly. "I think we'll skip the twenty-year denial phase on this theory and take it as the gospel seeing as how we're working with a tight schedule. Imminent doom and all."

Dean exhaled, heavily and faced Bradley. "So how do we stop this from happening?"

"I'd make sure to be the first to find the compound."

"But we don't know what exactly that is." Sam regained his voice, ignoring his bitter thoughts.

"You know it will have Merlin's seal." Bradley lifted the book again, revealing the three circles. "And it will probably be a liquid, although I can't guarantee that, like you said it may have dried into a powder by now."

A silence descended over the room, punctuated by Riley cracking his knuckles. "Sorry," he said, but then did it again. "So, can we come?"

Dean snorted, and Sam laughed in relief.

"That would be a no," Caleb replied.

"They can take my place," Joshua volunteered.

Dean shook his head at the hopeful look that lit up Riley's eager face. "Maybe next time, Indy."

"But, you've done well, both of you," Caleb added. "If you ever, ever, need anything you can call us. Day or night, we'll answer."

Dean grinned and put another coin in the Darth Vader coin bank. "May the Force be with you."

Caleb rolled his eyes and gave the younger man a shove towards the door. "We'll see ourselves to the door."

Sam watched Joshua follow his brother and Caleb out; but hesitated before leaving. He glanced at Bradley. "If you all put this together, do you think the other side did too?"

Bradley shrugged. "It's a good bet."

Sam forced a grim smile. "Right."

"Can I ask you something?"

Sam nodded. "Sure."

Bradley gestured to Sam's right hand. "Why no ring?"

Sam clenched his fist and then flexed his fingers. He looked from Riley and then to Bradley, recognizing both the perplexity in Riley's naïve gaze and sincere curiosity in Bradley's. "That silver…it's a lot heavier than you think."

Riley frowned; but Bradley nodded in understanding. "That your way of saying be careful what you wish for?"

Sam didn't answer the question. "You two take care."

"Hey, Sam." Riley jumped up and grabbed the Darth Vader coin bank, thrusting it at the hunter. "Here. Give this to Dean."

Sam's mouth twitched. His brother did have a fan club. Sam could understand that. He wanted to be just like Dean when he grew up too. "You realize Joshua will never forgive you for this."

Riley grinned. "My mom will be glad to hear that." The teen sobered slightly. "Which reminds me, when you guys get to The Boonedocks, don't mention meeting me…or my helping Mac. Okay?"

Sam nodded. He could understand Riley's desire to do his own thing-even though Riley wanted the very thing Sam had tried so hard to escape. "Secrets are The Brotherhood way."

Riley rocked forward on his toes. "I know and that's so cool."

RcJ

Chapter 4 Coming Soon.

I am also working on a short pre-series Holiday fic for Christmas; so chapter four may or may not be finished in two weeks. There is also the upcoming 'Holiday' here in the states next week; but I promise to try and work through the Turkey haze to get some writing done. Also, take advantage of the Holiday season to send those brother cards to Kripke. I found the best Dean one for Christmas the other day. We want more brother moments like in episode seven and less female recurring regular characters taking up time with rubbish story lines. I'm sorry….trying to stay positive here. Send those cards!

Also, the bit about Samuel Colt being indentured to a farm when he was eleven is true. He lived there five years and when I read it I couldn't resist the possible tie-in.


	5. Chapter 4

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Chapter 5

Beta: Tidia-but all left over mistakes are mine

A/N: Well, I made it in time for the first weekend of the New Year. Thanks to Tidia for that. I hope everyone found their way safely into the New Year, and I can't wait to see what you think of this latest installment. It's been a while due to the Holiday hiatus, so you might need to go back and refresh on chapter three.

Time line NOTE! Remember, this story is taking place in May 2007. It is prior to what's been going on in Season 3 episodes and happens 'BEFORE' Tidia's latest story God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman. Here is how the stories fall in the time-line:

To The Victor Go the Spoils- May 2007

Offerings and Takings-Tidia September/October 2007

The Edge of Winter-Ridley Novermber 2007

God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman –Tidia Christmas 2007

NOTE: If you read God Rest carefully, there were some pretty cool hints about what will happen to the boys in Offerings and Takings and The Edge of Winter. Tidia and I are very excited about what we're planning. We hope you're going to be 'surprised' and like it. We're talking the good kind of surprise like flowers for no reason or finding a twenty dollar bill in your winter coat pocket…not 'look, every episode but one has Ruby and Bela in it' kind of surprise or 'Guess what? Your favorite show is not in our line-up anymore'.

Any way…just wanted to clear that up because we had some confusion going on. Also, just to answer a very popular question…yes, there was a reason Caleb didn't tell Dean the story of 'Deuce' and yes, it will happen…very, very soon. Thanks everyone for the reviews and the questions! Now, on with the story. That was the longest intro ever!

_RcJSnsnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

"You suck at this game." Ethan Matthews pushed his long dark hair out of his eyes. He used his other hand to lash out at the red puck in front of him, sent it hurtling into the fiberglass bumper, then it ricocheted towards the blond at the other end of the table. "In fact, you've always sucked at this game."

He grinned in triumphant as the younger man slashed right, letting the little disk skid by him into the slot with a loud whack. "My game!" Ethan threw his arms up in triumph, opening his mouth to imitate the roar of a packed stadium. "Damn, I'm good."

"At air hockey." Elijah Matthews lifted his gaze from the file he was studying to shake his head. "It's something I suppose."

Sometimes Ethan wondered how he and Elijah could be genetically identical. "Pull that cob out of your ass and pour your big brother another drink, Eli." Ethan never grew tired of reminding Elijah of the fact he had been born eight minutes earlier. He placed his mug on the table in front of his brother. Kathleen had left them a pitcher earlier. He returned his attention to the other hunter. "Guess you haven't been practicing your air hockey skills at camp. You and the other bearded ladies been playing Scrabble and watching Dancing With the Stars? "

"Is that your way of saying you've missed me?" Gideon Lane's mouth twitched as he folded his arms over his chest. Gideon was a smoke jumper. Fire season had started early this year due to the drought, requiring him to move to the base camp in Wyoming a month earlier than usual. Griffin had called him back for this important job. "What have you been up to between training for the air hockey nationals and finding that elusive hair product perfect for your flowing mane?"

Ethan grinned. Gideon had missed him too. His witty comeback was interrupted by Elijah's unsolicited comment.

"Sonny Crockett trashed his latest car and lost yet another partner." Elijah glanced at Gideon.

"You, mind your own business and keep that head in that book, Professor." Ethan pointed at Elijah. His brother was a professor at Baylor and didn't understand the intricate workings of a cop's lifestyle. "I dented a fender, and I didn't _lose_ my partner. She's knocked up."

"Tell me she happened in the family way without your help."

Ethan's gaze narrowed. "In the family way? What are you, eighty?"

Gideon smirked. "I'm old enough to know not to sleep with my partner."

"That's because your partners bench press about three hundred and have to shave twice a day. _I_ know not to mix business with pleasure."

Ethan guessed by the look Elijah and Gideon shared, what they were thinking. "You two are never going to let that go are you? I didn't know she was a two-bit treasure hunting con."

"You didn't care." Gideon had the grace to hide his grin with his beer.

"It wasn't like it was the first time you got caught with your pants down." Elijah laughed. "If Silas hadn't found you, your naked skeleton would still be whitening in that grave."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "How about we think of a game plan for this hunt? I know how you two are big on that."

Elijah shrugged. "The arrest records you added were interesting reading."

Ethan had used his connections to get the criminal records of the Winchesters. "Yeah. Most of the charges are bogus. But that Henrickson guy that's breathing down their necks is one dangerous fibbie. He'd flip the switch himself if given the chance."

"Are you sure they aren't guilty? They are not your typical hunters. Breaking and entering, trespassing, and grave desecration are a little different than murder, kidnapping, and bank robbery."

Ethan popped his knuckles. "Your Boy Scout side is rearing its ugly head."

"You're avoiding the question," Gideon said.

"I'd say they're as guilty as sin. Just like the rest of us." Ethan couldn't help to grin. "Except for you, of course. But not everyone has the self-restraint that you do, Saint G."

"I don't know, Gideon. They're impressive." Elijah gestured to a file. "You wouldn't believe some of the things they've faced and dealt with. Shape shifters, Wendigos, and Hell Hounds."

"They also opened the gates of hell and released two hundred demons that we now have to deal with. They have theoretically tipped the scale, jeopardizing mankind's existence as we know it. Then there is the demon connection." Gideon grabbed one of the chairs, flipping it around before sitting on it, resting his arms against the back.

"You're talking about the journals?" Elijah picked up the copied pages of Cole Tanner's diary. "The information in here is nothing that Daniel Elkins didn't theorize years ago when he tried to exorcise Reaves. Jim Murphy was well aware of Reaves's possible lineage when he chose him. He was probably suspect of Sam Winchester, too."

"Griffin says that's _why _he chose them. It was part of his plan." Ethan understood Jim Murphy. He didn't believe a man was completely good or evil. It depended on the situation. "It could be brilliant strategy."

"Or faulty logic."

"Come on, Gideon," Elijah spoke up. "All this hype about the future Triad is just that, hype. It's a device being used by both sides to generate conflict and distrust among the ranks. Mere propaganda. Griffin might as well print out flyers and drop them from the sky."

Ethan frowned at his brother, his lack of loyalty to the man that was their father's best friend was surprising. "Griffin hasn't made up one thing about the Winchesters or Reaves."

"I didn't say he did." Elijah put his hands up. "We know Jim Murphy thought they'd do a good job. If he was wrong about the Winchesters and Reaves, then he could have also been wrong about us. And are you discounting Mackland Ames and John Winchester. You liked John. We all respect Mackland."

"Must you play devil's advocate?" Gideon asked.

"You really believe that Sam Winchester is supposed to be a ruler of Demon-kind?" Elijah retorted.

"You've heard what Silas, Harland, and Griffin have all said. There's more than enough reason to believe he plays some kind of part in all that's taken place. Besides the obvious fact, he was there when the demons were released."

Ethan couldn't help himself. "I hear that Reaves is also planning on conjuring the plague and calling forth a swarm of locusts."

Gideon glared at him. "This isn't a joke, Ethan."

"Ellen and Bobby were there also," Elijah pointed out. "You think they're traitors?"

"No. I didn't say that."

"Then say what you mean."

"Dad saved their lives." Ethan said quietly, momentarily ending the verbal volley. He took a drink of his beer as the other two hunters stared at him. "He died to protect them. That should mean something."

"Ethan, he died protecting them against a group of men who believed they should be destroyed. Maybe that should mean something too," Gideon said, softly.

Ethan had a difference of opinion on terminology. "Traitors murdered Dad."

Elijah cleared his throat. "Are we not traitors if we go against The Triad that Jim Murphy, _The Guardian, _chose?"

Ethan popped his neck, looking from Elijah to Gideon. "We agree that there are definite reason to doubt the Winchesters and Reaves?"

"I have no arguments about the valid questions surrounding them," Elijah replied. "I just have issue with plotting against them like they were the enemy. Do we even know exactly what Griffin expects us to do with this information?"

"He expects us to get to those weapons and keep them from falling into the wrong hands."

"By wrong do you mean the Winchesters and Reaves?" Elijah asked, frowning at Gideon. "You're being obtuse."

"Obtuse?" Gideon groaned. "I'm not one of your colleagues, Eli."

Ethan slapped his brother on the back of the head. "Yeah, Eli. Take off the tweed blazer and put on your hunting jacket."

Elijah folded his arms over his chest. "Do _you_ know what Griffin wants us to do?"

"I'm to stop Ian from completing his mission at all costs. At least that's what Silas told me. Ian has gone rogue." Ethan yawned widely, stretching his arms above his head. "I've seen it happen to good cops. Too long working with the perps. They start to identify and sympathize with them."

"Recent reports put him in the company of a very attractive red head." Elijah sighed. "A red head with lovely **black **eyes."

"Your buddy Carolyn tell you that?"

Ethan grinned as Elijah shifted in his seat, tugging at his shirt collar. "Leave Carolyn out of this."

"Guys, we still aren't any closer to getting a game plan together than we were an hour ago," Gideon stated. "From what we know they are only loyal to each other."

Ethan picked up one of the files and tapped it on the table. "I have a feeling all the research and game plans will go right out the window once it starts going down. It's like undercover work- a lot of it is flying by the seat of your pants and hoping for the best."

"Says the man who's been shot twice in the line of duty." Gideon snorted.

"One of those was a graze. Didn't count." Ethan looked at his brother. "Will your abilities give us any kind of advantage?"

Elijah shook his head. "Not from what Griffin said."

Ethan recognized the look on his brother's face. Griffin was no-nonsense when it came to his brother's capabilities. He openly expressed his displeasure for Elijah's talent of being a lie detector. "What did he say?"

"That Caleb Reaves is one of the most skilled psychics he has encountered. Possibly stronger than him. He is quite certain Sam has just as much potential." Elijah smiled, but Ethan knew it was forced. "I'm not exactly in their league."

"Do we have anything to protect us? What about that box thing Griffin created?"

Elijah shook his head. "Not exactly stealthy."

"What happened to trust?" Ethan mocked.

Gideon glared at him. "I trust the people I know. I don't know these men."

"We'll talk with Griffin before we go to Wyoming," Elijah said. "Now what about our game plan?"

"How about I stick close to Reaves, Gideon with Dean, and you can handle Sam," Ethan suggested.

"By handle him do you…"

Ethan growled, pointed a finger at Elijah. "Stop. I mean you'll be his shadow. Guard him like he's your man when we play three on three."

"We suck at three on three," Gideon stated. "We came in almost last in the city basketball league this past season."

Ethan huffed. "You two suck. I had to bring the game all by myself."

"This will require we work together, Ethan. No ball-hogging and luck shots."

"Ball hogging? Luck shot?"

"I think Eli is just pointing out the importance of you sharing your insight with us before acting on it."

Ethan narrowed his eyes at Gideon. "You're taking his side?"

"There are no sides."

"Coming from you that's hilarious, G."

"I meant between us."

Ethan grinned. "Yeah. I forgot. We're a circle." He waved a hand in the air. "Never-ending, no beginning and no end."

"Three circles interlocking, actually," Elijah said.

Ethan shook his head. "Excuse me?"

"The symbol for The Brotherhood-The Triad." Elijah used his finger to draw invisible rings in the air.

"We're not The Triad." Ethan knew the jobs were demanding, more than he was possibly willing to give.

"Maybe we're not supposed to be," Elijah said.

Ethan nodded. He knew his brother had his own reasons for doubting their proposed positions.

Gideon lifted his beer in a toast. "But maybe we are."

Ethan knew Gideon just wanted to do the right thing. But he also knew the problem with that was the right thing often changed depending on the person's point of view

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"You really look like you could use this, Doctor."

Mackland Ames glanced at the smiling blonde in front of him, forcing a smile. "Is that your professional opinion?" He had only arrived at Boone Adams' bar , his rushed trip along with the impending meeting taking their toll. The doctor only hoped he didn't appear as apprehensive as he felt.

"Yes." Kathleen Adam's blue eyes twinkled. "I have almost twenty years experience behind this bar." She rubbed her hand affectionately over the worn oak surface between them. "I can tell when a man needs a drink."

"And how did you know I prefer scotch?" Mackland lifted the tumbler, jostling the dark amber liquid.

She laughed. "Secrets of the trade. You're not exactly a beer man, Mac, and when on hunting territory I doubt you let that wine connoisseur emerge." She nodded to the wall behind her "But I have some French and California ports that would rock your taste buds if you come back to visit when it isn't official business."

Mackland nodded. "I have no doubt that your collection would impress me." He wasn't teasing. Kathleen was not the simple bar maid that some took her for. She was well read, insightful and serious about the contributions her husband still made to The Brotherhood. Mackland knew she was the driving force behind sending Riley to Tufts. "Riley told me that you visit the Valley during the grape harvesting season on occasion. Have you thought of vacationing in Tuscany? You would be amazed at the…"

"You've talked to Riley?"

Mackland stifled his groan. "Yes, you remember I introduced him to my secretary's son. He goes to Boston University. We all had brunch at the Four Seasons." It wasn't a lie, but Mackland still felt a sharp pang of guilt.

"Of course." Her smile returned. "Bradley. Riley's mentioned him. Boone and I appreciate it. Riley can have a hard time making friends sometimes. My baby gets so wrapped up in his studies and hobbies…"

"The kid would have his nose in a book twenty-four seven if you let him." Boone Adams suddenly appeared by his wife. He topped off Mackland's drink. "It's gotten worse with those Raspberry devices, lap tops, and other high-tech gadgets of his."

"It's Blackberry, dear." Kathleen wrapped an arm around Boone and chuckled. "And you're just angry you had to learn to turn on a computer."

Mackland didn't miss the way Boone's face changed when he looked at Kathleen. He understood how the man could give up his ring. "I had to learn to type to communicate with my only son." Boone leaned closer to Ames as if about to tell him a shameful secret. "I have a My Space page and a cell phone. What the hell is the world coming to, Mac?"

"I've wondered that myself, Boone."

Kathleen's attention was drawn away by a customer. Boone had done as Mackland asked and left the bar open to avoid drawing any unwanted attention to the gathering about to take place. Mackland wanted everything to look like business as usual. Kathleen gave Mackland's hand a quick pat. "Let me know if I can get you anything else, Doc."

Mackland looked up at the clock and wondered what was keeping the boys. "I reckon you're pretty pissed at them."

"No." He met Boone's blue gaze. "I just hope they haven't run into any unexpected trouble." Mackland had talked to Joshua when he arrived earlier. He assured him the boys were on schedule, leaving Tufts when he did.

"I wasn't talking about your boys."

Mackland frowned, pulled from his thoughts. "Pardon?"

"I was referring to old Jim Murphy and that sonofabitch Winchester. They picked a hell of a time to run out on you, Mac."

Mackland's chest clenched. It surprised him how the pain could resurface white hot and so fresh, even after months had passed. "That they did." He took a long drink of his scotch, glanced towards the back of the room where Griffin and Silas sat. Joshua was chatting congenially with them. "The Guardian should be dealing with this."

"Jim would have dealt with it alright." Boone leaned on the bar. "Some thought that old man was soft, but he was as sharp as a polished steel blade. There was a reason Griffin kept his mouth shut and stayed in the shadows until now."

"I miss his ability to put any situation into perspective."

"He could turn a phrase." Boone turned around, pulled a couple of shot glasses from the glass wall behind him. He turned them up on the bar, retrieving a bottle of tequila from beneath the countertop. "If it's any consolation, I think you've done a damn fine job of keeping things together." He filled one of the shots and shoved it towards Ames. "And I'm not the only one. You have more friends than enemies."

Mackland swallowed thickly, watched him pour the alcohol into the other glass. Lately he'd felt so isolated and outnumbered. "I hope you're right."

"I might be retired, but I see and hear more here behind this bar than I ever did out in the field. This territory is neutral, Mackland, but I have always and will always be loyal to Pastor Jim. Buzz feels the same way."

Mackland appreciated the sentiment. Yet, it made him feel worse about hiding Riley's involvement. Mackland lifted his drink in toast. "To Jim Murphy."

Boone smiled and tossed back the shot. "To the pastor."

"You boys already started drinking without me?" Bobby Singer slid onto the stool beside Mackland, placing a gun in a leather holster on the wooden surface. "Pour me a couple of those why don't you, Boone? Put it on Mac's tab."

"What is that for?" Mackland eyed the menacing weapon in front of Bobby. "As I explained to you on the phone before, this is not Dodge City, Bobby. I wanted you here for representation, not muscle."

Bobby met Boone's gaze, shaking his head. "See what I mean?" He faced Mackland again. "You think Silas is here for 'representation'? I'm not leaving the boys unprotected."

"And you think I would? I'm not an idiot."

Bobby chose to down his first shot instead of commenting. Mackland sighed in exasperation. Boone was right. He was definitely pissed at Jim and John.

"You better not shoot up my damn bar, Singer. Last time you and Winchester cost me a week's worth of business."

Singer smirked. "Where's Kathleen? She understands hospitality."

Boone snatched the bottle of tequila away as Bobby reached for it. "The good stuff is for paying customers."

Bobby raised his voice so Adams would here. "And she's a far sight prettier than her old man deserves."

"Do you purposively work to alienate those around you, or is it a natural talent?"

"You're damn pissy tonight. All this Brotherhood business been keeping you from enjoying some of Esme's 'herbal tea'?"

Mackland's gaze narrowed as Bobby grinned. He used his fingers to make quotation mark signs in the air as he lasciviously said the words 'herbal tea'. He took a deep breath, focusing his anger. The small glass in front of Bobby cracked, then shattered quite spectacularly. Singer jerked back as Boone sent a heated glare his way.

"Goddamnit, Singer. That's going on your bill."

Bobby held up his hands in surrender. "It wasn't me."

"Prove it." Mackland said, smugly. He felt only a little childish as Bobby turned his surprised gaze on him.

"Since when do you flash your abilities around in public?"

"Since the game has changed." Mackland pointed a finger at the grizzled hunter. "I may not be in the field as much as you or wear my side arms hung low and tied down like some spaghetti western cowboy, but you should not forget that I am quite capable of defending myself and my charges. I am The Scholar."

"Easy, Doc." Bobby leaned back with a huge grin. "I never meant for you to get your back up, to suggest you couldn't tackle this on your own. I just thought my talents were needed to balance out your finesse."

Mackland watched his friend's face lose some of its amusement as he mumbled, "And with The Knight being gone…"

Ames sighed. He was not the only one missing Jim and John. "I know. I'm glad you're here. John would appreciate you filling his spot." Bobby and Missouri were his only sounding boards. He knew he could count on them. "I wouldn't want to do this without you."

Bobby laid his hand over the leather holster. "But if you think I'm going to sit back and watch while Griffin or one of his guns put the boys through the mill…"

Mackland tuned Singer out as the door suddenly opened, and just like in one of the Westerns he had mentioned earlier all conversation quieted. The doctor almost expected to hear the tune from the Good, Bad, and The Ugly echo from the jukebox as every eye went to the three newcomers swaggering into the bar.

RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ

"You guys ever get that feeling you're being watched?" Dean asked with a glance to his brother and Caleb as they entered The Boonedocks Bar & Grill.

Reaves shot him a half-assed grin. "I'm used to drawing attention when I walk into a room. It's a curse."

Dean rolled his eyes. The cocky reply was welcome in comparison to Caleb's brooding silence of the last leg of their car ride. "But are there usually deadly weapons involved, Damien?"

"It depends if you count a great ass and amazing rack as deadly weapons, Deuce."

Dean smiled. "You know I do."

"You two really are dogs- you know that?" Sam shook his head, but stayed close to their side as they continued to the bar where Mackland and Bobby sat.

"We can't all be sappy and poetic, Runt." Caleb cut his gaze to Dean. "Griffin's here."

Dean didn't want to do an obvious scan of the place. He imagined Caleb's psychic abilities had put the man on the radar. That was confirmed when his brother spoke up softly.

"I sensed him when we walked in the door. There's another psychic here too."

Caleb nodded grimly. "Keep your blocks up. Porter likes to come in the backdoor."

"Not if you take away his lock-picking kit," Dean muttered. He wasn't about to have a repeat of the Cosby disaster. He had taken precautions to protect his brother and Caleb.

"What?" Sam asked.

Dean was glad they made it to Mackland and Bobby. "Hey, Mac. Fancy meeting you here."

"You're late," Bobby growled. "I talked to you boys an hour ago. You were just a few minutes away."

"The natives were hungry," Dean said, watching Sam's face twist in rebuke.

"Dean saw a billboard for the world's best banana split."

"What would a road trip be without some ice cream? But we're here now. That's all that matters, right?"

"You're the last to arrive," Mackland said.

Dean recognized the slight reprimand and tried to look contrite. "I thought it was fashionable in your circle to be late." He didn't want to do the job, or meet with Griffin and this other proposed Triad.

Caleb elbowed him. "Sorry, Dad. We're ready to get started."

"Who's Joshua talking to?" Sam asked.

Dean rubbed his side where Caleb's elbow caught him. He recognized the back of Sawyer's head. Joshua was talking to a tall, broad-shouldered black man and Silas. "That Griffin?"

"It is."

"Josh seems awfully chummy," Dean commented, elbowing Caleb.

"Griffin courted him, to make sure if his Triad came to power then Slick was on their side," Bobby answered.

Dean frowned. "Griffin's the scum of the earth."

"To you, Son," Mackland said, softly. "There are those who still regard him as a very powerful and respectable man."

"You boys are in the fish bowl now," Bobby interjected. "Live up to Jim's example."

"I know him." Sam said, suddenly. Dean pulled his gaze away from the trio.

"Sam, you were only five when that bastard took us. I barely recognize him and..."

"No." Sam shook his head. "He was here at The Boondocks last Christmas." He looked at Caleb. "When you were poisoned by that cult. He talked to me."

"That explains a lot about that fun trip," Caleb replied. "We knew someone fed Joshua and Boone bogus information. How much you want to bet it was Porter?"

"There is no doubt the man is dangerous and will go to any lengths to get what he wants."

As Mackland spoke, Griffin lifted his head and smiled in their direction. Dean resisted the urge to send him a universal greeting with his middle finger or better yet pull his gun and waste the smug bastard. "All the more reason we get this show on the road."

"What about our replacements?"

Mackland frowned at his son. "They are not your replacements. View them as you would any other hunters."

"Who want us out of the way so they can take our jobs."

"Junior," Bobby warned.

"All right. I can play nice with the second-stringers." Caleb crossed his arms.

"What about their father?" Sam asked.

"Jared?" Mackland ran a hand through his hair. "What about him, Samuel?"

Dean understood. "What if they ask us about him? We were the last people to see him alive. I'd be damned curious if I were them."

Mackland slid a finger over his brow. "Jim left Griffin's reputation intact to protect Ethan and Elijah. I don't think we have a right to take that away. Not without a very good reason."

"Griffin's probably told his side of the story with all his usual flair. He's good at sucking a person in." Caleb glanced towards Porter's booth. "They wouldn't believe us even if we tried to explain what really happened."

"I'd say the less that is said about Jared and Griffin the better," Mackland stated. "Focus on the task at hand. Recovering the weapons and in case Griffin's fears are correct, stop Ian."

"How exactly are we supposed to find this legendary stockpile? And how do I fit into all this?" Dean had pondered his job as the future Guardian during their drive, having a ring with mysterious writing and a dream about The Lady of the Lake was circumstantial evidence. "What if I can't open the door?"

Mackland met his gaze. "We're going to discuss the how and where of finding the weapons with Griffin and the others, but as for your role, there are no exact answers."

"What about Wilmington's journal?" Caleb asked, glancing to Dean. "He was The Guardian. If he set this up, then surely he left some kind of clue for the next Guardian."

"Griffin sent me the scans of both missing journals after I agreed to this meeting. The only mention Daniel Wilmington makes is that death will befall anyone unworthy."

"That's definitely got me jonesing to go."

Reaves shook his head. "I'm not letting him do anything I don't think is safe. If I don't know for sure he's 'worthy' then the hell with that."

Dean appreciated the sentiment, but he wasn't going to be coddled. "I guess I'll just run on home then. Take up the quiet farming life Jim always wanted for me."

"Smartass."

"He's right, Caleb." Mackland met his son's stubborn gaze. "Nothing about this journey is safe. Nothing about our lives is safe, especially now."

"There are some things I can control. That's my job, isn't it?"

"The Knight's job is to protect The Guardian, not to hinder his duty. He walks in his master's shadow like a guard dog."

Caleb turned to glare at the newcomer. Dean did the same, itching to tell Porter what he could do with his unsolicited advice. Mackland beat him to it.

"Griffin, I thought we agreed you would limit your contact to the future Triad."

Porter gave them what Dean interpreted to be his most innocent and charming smile. "I shall respect your boundaries, Mackland. I was only going to give my regards, condolences for Johnathan's passing."

"Save your breath," Dean growled.

"I hope this can be a hospitable working arrangement." Griffin ignored the older Winchester and glanced at Sam. "I've been looking forward to seeing your progression, Samuel. Even as a child I could sense you had great and impressive things in store."

"Did you realize that while you were torturing Dean or maybe when you were holding a gun preparing to murder me?" Caleb placed himself between Porter and Sam. "Because that's quite the revelation for a sociopath to have."

"Caleb."

Mackland's soft voice didn't ease the adrenaline rushing through Dean's veins. He recognized the glint that flashed through Porter's dark eyes, a feeling of intense déjà vu washed over him. This wasn't the time to push the envelope. "Let it go, Damien."

"Yes." Griffin turned to Dean. "I think we should all let the past go, Caleb. It would be in The Brotherhood's best interest. Did Jim not tell you that revenge is not the way of The Triad."

"He taught me justice was."

"Back the hell off, Junior. " Bobby stood up from his stool, roughly shoving Caleb out of Porter's space. "You don't want to go messing up Boone's bar. Trust me. He takes payment out in your hide."

"Wait for us in the back, Griffin. I believe you said Ethan, Elijah, and Gideon arrived earlier and settled themselves in the back."

Porter inclined his head to Mackland. "Of course. I'll have Kathleen bring us some refreshment."

Once he was out of earshot, Bobby snorted. "I'm not drinking anything I don't see Kathleen or Boone pour myself. Damn shifty bastard is liable to be carrying strychnine."

"You're going to have to control your temper."

Dean waited for the explosion.

"What?" Caleb turned on his father. "You think I was out of line? After what that bastard did to us…what he's caused to happen since then!"

There it was. Dean exchanged looks with his brother. Sam took a couple of steps back.

"I know exactly what he did, Son. But this is not the time to rehash the past. Griffin was correct in his taunts about this being Brotherhood business."

"And Bobby was also correct in his glass house metaphor…"

"I said a fish bowl," Bobby corrected, receiving a heated glance from Mackland.

"What? They have totally different meanings."

Mackland ran a finger over one brow, then the other. It was a sure sign he was at his edge. "Would you please go save our seats for us, Bobby?"

"Is that part of the whole representation thing? Saving your goddamn seats?"

"Yes. It is."

Singer snarled. "I'm still taking my damn gun, Mr. Scholar, Sir." He picked up the weapon from the bar and stalked off towards a set of doors.

Dean felt a little sorry for Mackland as he turned to regard them once more. "Now, Caleb…"

Caleb cut him off. "Don't, Dad. I get it. No making waves. Be a good little soldier and do as I'm told. Funny how you criticized John's philosophy all these years, but have no problem using it when it suits your needs."

Dean gestured to Caleb as he bounded after Bobby. "He had a hard time with the information Riley and Bradley gave us."

The doctor sighed. "Now you see why I felt it important you keep your secret?"

Sam stared at Mackland. "You don't think that's going to make things worse in the long run?"

"I don't give a damn about the long run right now, Samuel!" Mackland snapped. "I gave a directive and I expect it to be followed until this job is completed."

Dean felt his jaw clench as Sam's face fell.

"Sorry. I'm going to help save those seats," Sam said in a flat voice.

Dean watched his brother walk away. "Directive same as an order, Mac? Because I agree with Caleb, it sounds damn familiar."

Mackland looked beyond Dean to where Sam and Caleb had gone. "Wait until you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, young man."

Dean licked his lips. "I thought I already did."

Mackland exhaled heavily. "I'm sorry. I know that this Guardian issue is weighing on you, not to mention the repercussions of your deal and …"

It wasn't Dean's intention to heap more guilt onto Mac. "It's okay, Mac. You're doing the best you can." He reached out and squeezed the doctor's shoulder.

"Why does absolution from you not exactly make me feel better, Son?"

Dean grinned. "Because I was always cutting Dad more slack than he deserved."

Ames smiled. "Ah yes, that would be it."

"But I was right, you know. Dad was doing the best job he could to keep us safe, to keep our family together. Isn't that what you're doing?"

"Yes, Dean. That is exactly what I'm doing."

"Then Sammy and Caleb will come around. They always did." Dean gestured with his neck that they should follow.

"Watch out for them." Mackland placed an arm around Dean's shoulder.

He felt the weight; it was more than just congenial motion. Dean felt the responsibility of representing Jim, a united front, and providing protection. "You know I will."

"We'll handle all the rest when you boys are back and all is well."

"You going to spring for another Vegas vacation?" Dean wished the conclusion to this hunt would lead to Vegas, but that vacation of ignorance could not be revisited.

"Even better, some down time at the farm."

Dean nodded. "It's a deal."

_RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

The room seemed painfully overcrowded to Sam, a familiar sensation. At six foot five inches, walking into a _large_ area and not drawing attention was difficult. He felt evermore the freak now, on display for reasons beyond being tall. He was one-third of an 'evil' Triad.

Griffin Porter and Silas Fox lurked inside the door. Bobby and Joshua in the opposite corner. Three men Sam didn't recognize sat at long wooden table that took center stage in Boone's office. He ignored the unnerving eyes on him. He blocked out all the emotions he could sense, and observed the rest of his surroundings.

There was an air hockey table shoved off to one side and a pool table that had seen better days on the other end. A small neatly arranged desk with a computer took up one corner, tall bookshelves abutted. There was also a black safe. Lighting was provided by several hanging Bud-light signs, a life-size glowing neon outline of a chopper covered one wall. But what instantly caught his attention was the seven-foot stuffed grizzly lounging in the corner like a beloved pet.

"Holy Grizzly Adams," Dean said quietly. "What the hell?"

Sam smirked, purposively made his way towards the bear so Dean and Caleb would be forced to follow. "You want to pet it?" Sam whispered and watched his brother's face contort in disgust.

"Boone couldn't have just sprung for some fake bear rug?"

Caleb bumped Dean's shoulder. "Bet you ten to one that's the bear Boone took out."

Sam shared a grin with Caleb when Dean kept his distance from the glassy-eyed beast, looking up at it with a mixture of awe and dread. "With a fucking piece of wire? No way, Damien. That thing is huge."

Sam wasn't sure where his brother's odd fear of bears came from, considering Dean wasn't afraid of much else. It had been a point of amusement over the years. Mackland's deep voice brought his attention back to the center of the room. The doctor was standing in front of the table, greeting the three strangers who stood to address him.

"Dr. Ames."

The taller blond was the first to shake Mackland's hand. He was about Dean's height, built similarly. His hair was almost military-style short. He was clean-shaven, wearing a plain blue t-shirt and jeans.

"It's good to see you again, Gideon. I hope your parents are well."

"They are. My mom says you and Esme should come for dinner again soon."

The Texas drawl was prominent, but the words had Sam refocusing on the man. He felt the surge of energy from Caleb, their psychic connection snapping like an elastic band. The older hunter was not pleased with yet another revelation. Mac was having dinner with Gideon's family.

"Perhaps when all this is over," Mackland replied, moving his gaze to the tall, dark-haired man beside Gideon.

"Ethan."

"It's been a long time, Mac."

Ethan was the vice detective. Sam noticed the accent was the same as Gideon's, but the similarity ended there. Ethan engaged Mackland in an informal, relaxed manner. His light brown hair was longer, fashionably unkempt. His looks and build were more rugged and rangier. Ethan was at least six feet tall. He was wearing a well-worn Dallas Cowboys shirt; torn jeans with a large silver belt bucklethat reminded Sam of the one Woody Harrelson wore in the movie Cowboy Way. His angular face was shadowed by a slight beard. Sam imagined he blended in quite well with the criminals.

"Too long," Mackland replied. "I trust you've been keeping your brother out of trouble."

Sam was surprised when Elijah moved around the table, not only clasped Mackland's hand, but pulled the doctor into a hard, quick embrace. "You know that's the other way around, Doctor." He laughed. "I have my hands full with him."

Sam felt his own twinge of jealousy. He cut his gaze to Dean. "Just how well does Mackland know these men?" he muttered under his breath.

"I was wondering the same thing."

"How's the dissertation coming?" Mackland asked. Sam zeroed in on Elijah once more. Joshua had told them he was a professor at Baylor.

"It's coming. Slowly." Elijah smiled warmly. "I appreciate you letting Carolyn help me with some of the research. She's been a great asset."

"From what I hear, it's fascinating work."

Sam studied the academic. No one would have guessed he was Ethan's twin without close scrutiny. The Mathews brothers shared the same dark blue eyes, but Elijah's hair was much shorter, lying against his head in waves that seemed shades darker than his brother's. He looked years younger. His pants were a light khaki, the long sleeved white pullover loose. Elijah looked like a college student instead of a teacher. Sam was pretty sure he was going to hate him.

Mackland met Sam's gaze, giving a shadow of his normal smile. "Now's the time for introductions, I suppose."

Sam wasn't surprised when neither Caleb nor Dean moved. The whole situation was odd. Sam felt like he was in a very small fishbowl with nowhere to go but straight ahead. Bobby cleared his throat, prompting Sam to begin the introductions.

"Hi. I'm Sam."

Elijah extended his hand. "Eli Mathews. This is my brother Ethan and Gideon Lane."

"Yeah. It's nice to put names with faces." Sam shook his hand, glancing over his shoulder to Caleb and Dean. He raised his eyebrow, tilted his head, and willed them to stop being stubborn.

Caleb stepped forward and nodded. "Caleb Reaves, but I'm pretty sure you know me as Resident Evil."

Ethan laughed, but Elijah seemed unsure of how to respond. "He thinks he's funny," Sam said, glaring at Caleb for making an already uncomfortable situation, worse.

"Yes. Perhaps it's a Knight thing." Gideon spoke with a pointed look at Ethan.

"Obviously you never met my dad," Sam smiled.

"I worked with him a time or two," Gideon replied flatly. "Mostly he hunted with Ethan."

"Really," Caleb said, flashing his father a look.

Mackland changed the subject, gesturing to Dean. "And this is Dean Winchester."

"Did you work with Jim?" Dean didn't move from his spot. He looked at Gideon. "Stay at the farm?"

Lane nodded. "I studied with Pastor Jim. We've all spent time at his farm."

Dean shook his head, glanced to Sam and Caleb. "Ain't that a kick in the pants?"

Sam swallowed, his own feelings mixed about the new information. "Maybe we should discuss the current hunt?"

_RcJSnsnsnsNRcJ_

Mackland silently applauded Sam's attempt to propel the conversation forward. There would be times to explain later. He was about to agree with the boy's suggestion when he caught movement from Griffin out of the corner of his eye.

"Spoken like a natural Scholar." Griffin claimed the chair at the head of the table, smiling at Sam. "Diplomacy, tactful diversion and persuasion are important skills for that position."

"Definite reasons Jim never considered Porter for the job," Bobby said to Joshua, but made sure his voice traveled throughout the room.

"Bobby…" Mackland started, only to be interrupted by Porter.

"Knights on the other hand can be as uncouth and ill-refined as swine as long as they are quick with a sword and handy with a gun. Obvious points James considered before offering Bobby the job. "

"A Knight is honorable, self-sacrificing, and follows a code no one like you could ever understand. They take the battle to the frontlines, protecting diplomats' asses as they tactfully divert and persuade with one another. "

Mackland stared at Dean. He felt a swelling of pride as the boy spoke.

"I won't be a part of this, Porter, if you are going to insult my father and my friend. And if I'm not mistaken, you need me."

Griffin hesitated. "I apologize if you took my attempts at humor as slanderous, Dean. In reality, I have a great respect for all the positions in The Triad. I take them quite seriously, believe me."

Dean didn't reply. Mackland quickly took the chance to intervene. "Griffin, I think it's time you tell us the location of this job. We need to all be on the same page if this is going to be a successful mission."

"Does everyone need to be present?" Griffin inclined his head towards Bobby.

"If Silas stays, I stay." Bobby patted the gun he now had strapped to his side. "I'm representing."

"Suit yourself." Griffin lifted a black briefcase from the floor, placed it in front of him. "But I prefer if your representation did not include feedback."

"I work for Mackland, so your preferences mean squat."

"Bobby, please." Mackland claimed his seat at the other end of the table. Dean, took the chair closest to Griffin, across from Gideon. Caleb took the one beside Dean, facing Ethan. Sam was on Mackland's right and Elijah on his left. Joshua, Bobby and Silas remained standing. "Go ahead, Griffin."

"Of course." Griffin began to remove things from his portfolio. He placed three worn leather journals on the table and looked up to speak.

Before he could Dean removed something from his pocket, setting it beside Griffin's pile with an enigmatic smile.

"You want to record our meeting?" Griffin asked. "I'm sure someone can take notes for you, if that's necessary."

"Oh, it's not a recorder. It's an iPod." Dean tapped his head. "Nothing wrong with my memory."

"Hey. That's m_y _iPod," Sam grumbled. "I lost it weeks ago."

"Sorry, Sammy." Dean cut his eyes to his brother. "I borrowed it for my homemade psychic scrambler." His smile widened. "Cool, huh?"

"That why I got a headache at the restaurant when you asked me to read that hot chick?" Caleb inquired.

"Hey." Dean shrugged. "I had to give it a test run."

"Nice."

"I beg your pardon?" Griffin glared at the oldest Winchester.

"You know. It picks up on any spikes of psychic energy, then relays a counter feedback almost like an electrical shock. In laymen terms, it works on a similar principal as a big bug zapper," Dean explained. "You called it an 'Elemental Trap.' Dean flicked his gaze to Silas. "Fox and your old buddy Ian were so kind to leave me your big, bulky, prototype in Cosby. I used it as a starting point." He held up the iPod. "You had some flaws in your original design. But this baby's compact and just as powerful, not to mention black and shiny. Trap any Elemental in a mile radius, and give psychics one bitch of a headache, maybe even fry some brain cells if they're really wide open." Dean winked at Caleb. "I had it on wimp mode when I used it on you."

"Your concern is touching, Deuce."

"Why would you need that?" Gideon demanded.

"To even out the playing field." Dean met the blond's gaze.

"Your brother and Reaves are psychics."

"Exactly. But don't worry; I've made sure they're grounded." Dean sat the iPod down again. "Not to seem like I don't trust you people…but wait a minute, I don't trust you people."

"Dean…" Mackland started, but Griffin held up a hand.

"That's quite clever, Dean. James always said you were very smart. And you're right. You have no reason to trust us."

"That's the first thing you've said that I agree with, Griffin."

"Griffin?" Ethan asked.

Porter smiled at Mathews. "It's all right. There's no need for any of us to be using our abilities when it's much easier just to come out and ask. We're among colleagues, after all. We have a common enemy, and that enemy is not in this room."

"Still. Dolly stays put." Dean gave his invention an affectionate pat. "Just to make sure."

Griffin smiled as he slipped on his glasses. "If it makes you feel more secure, by all means."

Dean cut his eyes to Caleb, lowering his voice. "Nothing shy of a bazooka and a hand grenade could make me feel secure in this room."

"I hear that."

Mackland gave them a hard stare. "From here on out, only Griffin and I speak. Understood?"

Dean nodded. Caleb made a locking motion with his hand, pretending to throw away the key. Mackland realized it was as good as he was going to get. "Okay." He glanced to Porter. "You were saying?"

"Sinks Canyon State Park in Wyoming."

"A state park? The Triad hid a stock load of deadly weapons in a state park?" Bobby asked.

Mackland glared at Bobby, he was included in the latest directive.

"In the eighteen hundreds it was nothing but vast wilderness," Griffin continued. "Even today Wyoming is the least populated state in our country."

"Sinks Canyon is in Lander, not far from the smoke jumper's camp. I know that area well," Gideon said.

Griffin nodded. "I hoped you would."

"How convenient," Dean muttered under his breath.

"The Sinks isn't your typical state park," Griffin continued. "There's a mystery surrounding it and that's probably the reason Daniel Wilmington's Triad chose it."

"What sort of mystery?"

"Sinks Canyon is named so for the Popo Agie, a rushing mountain river that flows out of the Wind River Mountains and through the canyon. Halfway down the canyon the river abruptly turns into a large limestone cavern and the crashing water 'sinks' into fissures and cracks. The river is underground for almost a half a mile or more before emerging into a large calm pool called The Rise."

"That's the big mystery?" Bobby asked.

Griffin looked around the table. "Where the water goes while it is underground is unknown. Geologists have only recently proven the same water flowing into the Sinks flows out at The Rise, but the water takes hours to reappear at The Rise."

"Geologists haven't studied it?" Mackland asked.

"They've speculated that while underground the water circulates through a maze of tunnels and caverns until it returns. But the small size of the fissures and the debris from the river make exploration impossible. What's more interesting is that they have found that there is a greater amount of water at the end."

"That suggests there is another underground water source besides the river."

Griffin nodded, a smile forming. "An underground spring or perhaps a _lake_." He picked up one of the journals. "Daniel Wilmington mentioned he would return the weapons to their source."

"You're referring to the Lady of the Lake myth concerning Arthur and Merlin?"

"Yes." Griffin raised a hand. "I'm not implying that this is Merlin's fountain, only that it would have suited Wilmington's purposes."

"How would he have known of the lake's existence? You said that geologists just recently figured it out themselves."

"Tanner and Wilmington had ties to the Crow tribe. From what I understand there are many tales of The Sinks in Native American tribes that lived in that area."

"That still doesn't explain how we are going to find a way into the Sinks."

"We don't have to." Griffin unfolded a map. "We scanned the inside covers of all three journals. When put together they form the most interesting pattern."

Mackland frowned. "It looks like the symbol for The Triad." Three interlocking circles.

"Not if you look closer." Griffin slid the document the length of the table.

Mackland picked it up and shook his head. "It's an intricate topographical map."

"Does X mark the spot, Captain Jack?"

Mackland supposed he should be satisfied the young hunter held his tongue as long as he did. He gazed over the map at Dean. For once Mackland recognized the pop culture reference. Pirates of the Caribbean was one of his favorite movies. "Actually, young Will, it does."

RcJ

Chapter 5 coming in Two weeks…dependent upon my beta's extensive travelling ventures and my adjusting to my new job schedule. Bg. Feedback is so welcome.

_SPECIAL NOTE: A few people wrote me and asked if I would mention this in my next posting .I don't mind at all, as long as no one accuses me of using my work of fiction as my own personal soap box again or verbally crucifies me for inciting a riot. Heck, who am I kidding? What writer doesn't want to stir up some emotion? Seriously though, not to panic anyone, but Supernatural has been snubbed in the new CW's writer's strike schedule. It may mean nothing, but it doesn't look fortuitous that we've been replaced by the Reaper. It's the devil's work alright-the devil as in Dawn O. The same red-horned sadist in stilettos who forced demon Barbie hunter and her felonious fainting counterpart down our throats and now wants to drop kick our boys off the schedule the first chance she gets. I'm not saying we should get too worried, but a reminder of how much we LOVE the show wouldn't hurt. Letters of support are always good, but seeing as how the holiday of love is almost upon us, why not inundate the CW with Valentines for the boys, maybe some heart shape balloons, singing telegram, or hey just continue with the 'Brother' card idea. It's something to show we want them back when this writers thing is over if not before. _Now back to our regular programming. We non-paid writers have nothing to strike about.

RcJ


	6. Chapter 5

To The Victor Go the Spoils

Chapter 5

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Thanks to all the reviews! The comments and suggestions are so helpful and keep me writing. Special thanks to that reviewer who raved about Wyoming, I have never been there, but I want to go now. I hope I haven't gotten too far off the mark as far as Sinks Canyon is concerned. Although, I'm pretty sure it isn't a secret hiding ground for The Brotherhood. But wouldn't that be cool. Also, a shout out to the resident geologist (Please don't laugh at me) and to NY Girl, who lifted my spirits with a very sweet review. Tara was a big help in making sure I made this clear to all of those readers out there, who 'don't' know what I'm planning. Sometimes I forget that you guys aren't psychic. Last but not least, thanks to Tidia, who worked on this on her vacation! Talk about dedication for no pay.

_RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

"Sonofabitch!" Caleb Reaves threw his duffel bag into the trunk of the Impala. "I'm so fucking pissed!" He slammed the lid.

"You don't say." Dean scratched his head, leaned on the car. Caleb had been building steam since they left the Boonedocks last night. He wasn't sure his friend had calmed down enough to sleep for a few hours. "Would you mind not taking it out on my baby?"

Caleb glared at him. "They lied to us. All of them! Fucking liars."

"They didn't actually lie," Sam pointed out, sliding his laptop and bag into the backseat. "They avoided telling us things. Traditional Triads are…"

"Don't talk to me about traditions!" Caleb interrupted, his fiery gaze going to the youngest Winchester. "They lied, Sam! What happened to all the steam you had at Mac's apartment? All your piss and vinegar theatrics about how unfair our lives were?"

"What happened to all your ready explanations and justifications for their behavior?"

"I'll tell you who lied," Dean interrupted the argument. He rubbed his neck, stretched. "Kathleen. She said this was a nice motel. The bed was like a pile of bricks. I think she was more worried about her new lamps than our comfort." Boone Adams had offered them a room at his house for the night, but his girlfriend of twenty years had been quick to suggest The Knotty Pine as an alternative. Dean caught the slightly panicked look on her pretty face. He hadn't missed the hissed exclamation about her 'new lamps' being in grave danger. He bet Mackland and Bobby slept a whole lot better in their guestrooms. "More evidence to never trust a beautiful woman."

"Never trust anyone!" Caleb countered indignantly, a deep scowl still etched on his face. "From now on, it's just you two." He pointed a finger at Dean and Sam. "We can only count on each other."

Dean ignored the guilty look his brother shot him. He knew exactly what Sam was thinking. He exhaled heavily. It was going to be a long ride to Wyoming. "Dude, let it go."

"What is it with you and this 'let it go' attitude, Deuce? It sucks. You can't tell me it doesn't eat at you that Jim, Mac, and John worked with these second-stringers. They _trained_ with them. They stayed at the farm, probably in _our _rooms. Hell, maybe 'their' rooms when we weren't there. My Dad is not only playing house with Esme Madrigal, but living some double life with Gideon Lane's perfect family."

"At least you knew more than me and Sammy growing up," Dean snapped, his own irritation escalating. He understood Caleb's frustration. But if having a limited future had taught Dean anything- it was that there wasn't a whole hell of a lot a man could do about the past. He didn't have time to be angry at the people he loved. "You knew what was going to be expected of you."

"Please," Caleb scoffed. "They only made it seem I was being involved more, telling me bits and pieces. The Knight needed to be worldly to protect The Scholar and The Guardian, they said. Worldly, my ass. The more I think about it, the more convoluted it becomes." Caleb paced away from them, whirled to face Dean once more. "What I'd give for five minutes…just five fucking minutes alone with Johnny right about now."

Dean nodded sharply. "Join the club." His reasons for wanting to see his father were completely different than Caleb's. "I'd give just about anything."

His declaration sucked the wind out of Caleb's sails. The older man ran his hands through his hair, dragged one down his face. "Shit, Deuce. I'm sorry." He cut his eyes to Sam. "I just don't know how many more twists and turns I can take on this fucked-up rollercoaster."

Dean's mouth twitched. "Payback for putting me on that bitch of a ride in Vegas."

"Right." Caleb laughed, but it sounded hollow. He put his hands on his hips, glanced towards a small brick restaurant across the road. "How about I treat for breakfast? The motel clerk said the food was good, and it's no telling how long it will take Joshua to fix his freakin' hair."

Dean looked to his brother. "A guilty Caleb is a vulnerable Caleb. What do you say we have steak and eggs?"

Sam shrugged. "We're going to have to drive through the night anyway. Might as well have one last sit down meal." He jutted his chin towards Joshua's door. "Should we call Josh and tell him we're going to eat?"

"Are you kidding?" Dean snorted. "And have Two-Face think he's invited? I don't think so." Dean was not happy about how chummy Joshua was with Griffin, not to mention the fact he spent most of the evening chatting it up at Boone's bar with his good buddies, Ethan, Elijah and Gideon.

The diner was crowded, always a good sign in Dean's opinion. He spotted an empty table in the back, then stopped as he recognized the three men occupying space at the one beside it. "Wonderful." They couldn't exactly turn around and leave. The trio had already spotted them. He looked to Caleb and Sam.

Caleb groaned. "Really?" He shot a quick glance heavenward, then met Dean's gaze. "Somebody hates us, Deuce."

"It could be worse," Dean muttered as he continued to the table.

"Griffin could be here," Sam finished his brother's train of thought.

"Don't jinx us, Sammy," Caleb said, giving the younger man a small shove forward.

"Gentlemen." Gideon lifted his coffee mug in greeting.

"Kathleen piled you boys off to the roach-inn too, I see." Ethan flashed a good-natured smile. "Good to know her and Boone really are remaining neutral."

"Don't get too cocky, Mathews." Dean returned the grin, which was more of a smirk. "I think she was more concerned we'd drop all these fake pleasantries and get to know one another like real men."

"She thought we'd shoot hoops?" Ethan quipped, taking a long drink of chocolate milk. "Any time. Any place. I'll warn you though, I have a sweet hook shot."

Caleb folded his arms over his chest. "I think Deuce was referring to us kicking your asses."

"Caleb." Sam motioned to the chair furthest away from the alternate Triad's table. "The nice lady is waiting for us to sit down so she can do her job."

Dean glanced over his shoulder. A gray haired woman in an overly bright pink shirt proclaiming her to be Teresa was standing behind them, impatiently tapping grease-stained menus on the palm of her hand. "You boys ready to order or should I take a smoke break and come back when you've finished your schoolyard antics?"

"Damien?" Dean looked at Caleb and shrugged. "We can always kick their asses later."

"Right." Caleb smiled at Ethan. "I'm starving."

Sam pushed his brother towards a seat, then claimed one for himself as Teresa pulled silverware and straws from her apron. "Let's just eat and get out of here," he suggested to the two hunters across from him. "Okay?"

"You must be the brains of the bunch," Teresa said in her gravelly voice. She slid a pen from behind her ear, touching the tip to her tongue before putting it to her small pad of paper. "Now what can I get for you, handsome?"

"Steak and eggs with coffee," Sam said quickly, handing her the menu.

"I'll have the same." Dean shot his brother a 'are you happy' look as he politely returned the menu with a charming smile. "And do you have any pie?"

"Had some apple left over from last night, but pretty boy over there just ordered the last piece."

Ethan gestured to the untouched pie plate in front of him. "Hey, you can have it if you want, Dean. Consider it a peace offering."

Dean looked at Caleb. "Why did the image of small pocked infested blankets and the Trojan Horse just pop into my mind?"

"Probably because you're jaded, cynical and a hell of a good judge of character, Deuce." Caleb gave his menu to the waitress. "Pancakes with sausage and eggs, sweetheart." He glanced at their neighboring table. "And could you maybe rush their check along? It looks like they're nearly finished."

"You're not enjoying our company?" Gideon asked politely, slowly sipping his coffee. "That's too bad considering the amount of time we're going to be spending together."

Teresa took Caleb's menu and tucked her pen behind her ear once more. "Boys," she muttered as she moved to the counter to place their orders.

"We don't usually seek out other people's company," Caleb replied. "This is completely out of our hands."

"Like an arranged marriage," Elijah said. Dean almost felt bad for him as they all stared at him. "You know, two patriarchs come together and arrange a union to the benefit of both parties mutually and…"

Ethan held up his hand. "Don't help us, Eli." He looked at Caleb. "You're not the only one who was forced into this job, Reaves. We aren't exactly in awe of working alongside you three either, but we've been more than fair. In case you didn't know we've had to hear about you pretty much forever. It blows."

Caleb leaned around Dean. "And in case you didn't know, Mathews, we didn't know shit about you until a few days ago. It sucks for us, too. Secret understudies we could have done without."

"Understudies?" Ethan cocked a brow. "Understudies wait in the wings twirling their thumbs; we've been front and center stage, put in just as much time as you three."

"And we didn't manage to release two-hundred plus demons from the bowels of hell in the process." Gideon set his cup down. "I'd say that scores one in our favor."

"So this _is_ a competition?" Dean asked. "You three got something to prove?"

"No." Elijah broke in. He met Dean's gaze. "This is not a competition and we are not challenging you three to some sort of contest. Just as Mackland said last night, we're working together to save The Brotherhood from a possibly terrible fate. The Triad issue is a moot point at this juncture."

"We're willing to make concessions for the good of The Brotherhood," Gideon added. "Is that not a common goal on your part?"

"Are you insinuating we're not loyal to The Brotherhood?" Caleb asked.

By the tone of Caleb's voice, Dean realized their somewhat half-serious conversation was edging into dangerous territory. "I think they're smarter than they look, man."

"They better be."

"Or what?" Gideon challenged.

"Guys," Sam spoke up. "This is exactly what Mac meant about not letting our personal feelings get in the way of this mission. We have to work together to finish the job."

Dean shook his head. "The only reason they're working with us, Sammy, is because they can't finish it on their own."

"And you wouldn't even have known where to begin without Griffin's intelligence," Gideon replied.

"Griffin and intelligence, now there's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one."

Sam kicked Caleb under the table. "Caleb."

"Ow." The older hunter glared at him. "Cut it out, Sam."

"You cut it out."

"All of you cut it out!" Teresa was back with their drinks. "You're running off my customers with your squabbling. If you want to settle this- go out in the alley with the rest of the garbage." She roughly set the coffee pot down and banged the three cups in front of the boys. "You construction workers are all the same. Think you can ride in here with your utility belts and take over the whole town while you're on a job."

"Construction workers?" Ethan sounded affronted. "I'm a cop, lady."

Teresa looked doubtful as she turned to Dean. "And let me guess, green eyes, you three are prominent business tycoons?"

"No." Dean grinned. "I'm a bank robber, wanted for murder in two states." He jerked his thumb at Caleb. "But my friend here's a millionaire a couple of times over. He'll gladly pay for any damages we incur while we're here."

"Sure he is, sugar." Teresa clucked her tongue. "Like I've never heard that one before."

Gideon shook his head in disgust as the waitress moved away to another table. "You three are really mature, aren't you?"

"What? Not living up to all that you've heard?" Caleb asked.

"No. You are _exactly_ what I expected," Gideon replied.

"What do you mean by that?" Caleb demanded.

Gideon clasped his hands together, leaning on the table so he could meet Reaves's gaze. "I mean there are clearly valid reasons why so many are skeptical about your role as The Knight." He lowered his voice. "It's becoming obvious to me that you have no respect for the position or for the immense responsibility that it brings. And now I see that oddly enough, it could have nothing to do with your DNA. In fact, you'd clearly be wrong for the job even if you weren't fathered by some demonic half-breed."

Caleb slid his chair back, instantly on his feet. "I've suddenly lost my appetite."

He moved for Gideon, but Dean stood up, blocking his way. "Damien. Think about this."

"Move, Deuce. I have thought about it, and I think the ass-whipping time is upon us."

Sam slowly rose. Elijah did the same as Gideon and Ethan jumped to their feet. "It won't be as easy as you think, Reaves," Ethan promised.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Tell me you don't use that weak line on the streets, Vic Mackey."

"You boys better take it outside!" Dean groaned as a big man in a grease-splattered apron called out from behind the counter."I'm going to call the police!"

"That won't be necessary," Sam tried.

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, then caught a glimpse of the other man hurriedly approaching their tables.

Joshua Sawyer moved quickly towards the Mexican standoff in the back of the restaurant. Dean watched the blond hunter flash his most charming smile to the cook. "My associates will be leaving of their own accord, sir. No need to expend any tax dollars on the foolish antics of a bunch of Neanderthals."

"Great," Dean muttered. "Mackland's watch dog is here."

"Tell me you are not about to do what I think you're about to do," Sawyer hissed as he joined the six hunters.

Dean smirked at him. "Fine, Josh. We'll send you a memo after it's over. Go wait in the car, like a good little lackey."

"Must I remind you that Mackland warned you about this type of behavior?" He favored Gideon and Ethan with a look. "Frankly, I'm surprised at the two of you."

"They started it," Ethan defended.

"Us?" Caleb snapped. "I think your buddy Lane tossed the gauntlet..."

"Actually, it was a mutual misunderstanding…" Elijah started.

Ethan glared at him. "Don't help us, Eli."

"Enough." Joshua pulled out his cell phone, brandishing it like a weapon. "One more word from any of you and I'm calling The Scholar. He will undoubtedly be highly displeased that six of the most prominent figures in our organization cannot even sustain civility with one another during a meal. Have you no cognizance of fake pleasantries?"

Ethan pointed to Dean. "I offered him my pie."

"I'll tell you exactly what you can do with your pie."

"Dean!" Joshua snapped. "We're leaving."

"The hell we are," Caleb said. "I haven't had my breakfast."

"Get it to go."

"They can leave just as well as we can." Dean pointed to Gideon and Ethan.

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest, glared at the oldest Winchester. "We were here first."

Joshua's cell phone rang, bringing the altercation to an abrupt halt. The blond hunter gave a smug little smile before glancing down at the screen. When he looked back up, Dean knew it wasn't Mackland calling as Sawyer had assumed.

"Who is it?"

Joshua licked his lips. "Ian Hastings."

"I'll be damned." Dean jutted his chin towards the cell. "Answer it."

All six men sat back down. Joshua claimed the empty chair beside Sam, taking the call. "Ian."

Joshua met Dean's gaze as he listened to the man on the other line. "As a matter of fact, I'm having breakfast with Dean as we speak. If you're close by you should join us."

Joshua flicked his gaze to the other table. "Yes, they're here, too. Everyone's getting on fabulously. We have you to thank for that. A common enemy will bring out the best in people."

"Josh," Caleb growled.

"I hear you've made some new friends of your own from way down south?" Joshua raised a brow at Caleb. "And all this time you insulted me for the sorted company I kept when working with Reaves." There was a pause. "Meg, is it?"

Sam and Dean exchanged looks at the familiar name. "Sonofabitch." Dean gestured for the phone, but Joshua frowned at him, moving out of his reach.

"New body, new name? That's understandable. So, what should I call you then, demonic force previously known as Meg?" Joshua strummed his fingers on the table. "Rose? How charming."

"Yes, I'll be glad to relay that message. Yes, flaying of skin, crushing of bones, etcetera, etcetera. I think I've got it all. And I look forward to meeting you, too. Goodbye."

"What the hell?" Dean demanded. "You're taking personal calls from demons now?"

"You'd rather I hang up."

"What did Ian say?" Gideon asked.

"He wanted to inform us that the weather was nice in Wyoming." Joshua cut his gaze to Dean. "He was also thanking us in advance for delivering the 'Key' to him and his new partner. They look forward to doing business with The Guardian."

"Meg." Dean nodded.

"Rose as she's now calling herself." Sawyer shifted his eyes to Caleb. "She asked that I tell you she's looking forward to the family reunion."

"They know about Dean's connection." Caleb ignored the insinuation, turning his heated gaze on Ethan. "Two guesses who relayed that information to Hastings."

"Griffin didn't know he was a traitor."

"It doesn't matter. He still placed Dean in danger."

Joshua glanced to Sam. "I'll spare you the sentiment Rose asked I relay to you."

"Wasn't she like your girlfriend or something?" Ethan asked.

"No!" Sam replied quickly. "I barely knew her."

"She's the demon who killed Pastor Jim?" Elijah asked.

"Yes." Caleb nodded. "And he was only the beginning."

Dean glanced at his friend, knew he was thinking of Moose and the man's family. Meg/Rose had murdered them all, not to mention attacking both Byrd and Missouri just to lure Caleb away during Yellow Eye's big demon showdown. "She won't walk away this time."

"What's up with Ian showing us his hand?" Ethan looked around the table. "He doesn't do much without a reason."

"Bastard's rattling the cage," Caleb said. "It's more fun for him this way."

Gideon frowned. "You act like this is merely a game to him."

Reaves shook his head. "If you think it's not, then you don't know Ian very well. He's doesn't have a higher purpose other than causing people pain."

"He was loyal to The Brotherhood for a long time, wore a ring…"

"You're kidding. Right?" Dean favored Gideon with an incredulous look. "I" an has always been, will always be, a _bad_ guy."

Gideon leaned back in his chair, folded his arms over his chest. "He's said the same of you."

"Fuck this shit." Caleb stood up. "We don't have to defend ourselves to you, especially against someone like Ian Hastings. In case you haven't noticed your buddy Ian is sleeping with the enemy, literally. He will kill you without blinking an eye. But if you think for a minute that I'm going to let him keep breathing then you're sorely mistaken."

"We are in this job together, Caleb," Joshua pointed out. "Your father…"

"My father's not here!" Caleb snapped. "That means under protocol I'm in charge on a hunt and my number one priority is to protect The Guardian. If you stand in the way of that, any of you, I'll consider it treason, mutiny, and will have no problem running you through." He tossed a handful of cash on the table. "Ring or no ring."

Joshua leaned on the table, pinning Dean with his ice blue gaze. "You're going to have to do something with him."

"Don't worry, Josh." Dean stood, nodding for Sam to follow him. "I won't let him kill anybody until we have the weapons."

Caleb slammed the door of the restaurant open. "Damn it!" he swore as they exited the early morning sunshine.

Dean hurried to keep up. His friend had his fisted hand pressed against his forehead. "Don't sweat it, Dude. When this is over…"

"No…" Caleb blinked, breathing hard through his nose. "My head…"

Dean glanced over his shoulder. "Sam?"

"Vision?" Sam caught up with them. Dean bit his lip as he noticed Elijah was close behind.

"Not now, not now," Caleb repeated over again as he managed a few more steps towards the street before he doubled over, both hands gripping his head.

"Damien?"

"Is he alright?"

Mathews's concerned tone had Dean's blood boiling. "He's peachy; just get the hell away from us. We'll meet you in Wyoming as planned."

Elijah hesitated. He glanced towards the restaurant. "Ethan and Gideon are both trained paramedics…our county cross trains police officers and firemen…"

"Leave us alone," Dean said again, guiding Caleb towards the Impala.

"Sorry." Sam offered Elijah an apologetic shrug before following his brother. "This isn't a good time."

Dean leaned Caleb against the Impala where the psychic promptly slid to the ground. "Goddamnit," he hissed.

"Hey." Dean kneeled, squeezed his shoulder. "What's going on? Caleb?"

Caleb pulled his knees to his chest, resting his head against them. Dean could hear his harsh breathing.

"Dean, maybe we should…"

Caleb pushed back, banging his head against the Impala. "I…can't…breathe, Deuce. I can't…."

"Take it easy. If you can talk, you can breathe." Dean shot a helpless look to Sam. "Break the connection like you did at Mac's."

"Dean." Sam hesitated. "If it's a vision it may be important."

Dean grabbed his brother's arms. "This is like the vision at Mac's. He's not going to come out of it on his own. Break the damn connection before he blacks out."

Sam reached out, wrapped his fingers around Caleb's wrist. In seconds, Caleb was breathing normal. He blinked a few times. "Thanks, Sammy."

"Are you okay?" Dean asked.

Caleb turned to him, nodded. "That sucked worse than our breakfast being interrupted by the bizarro freaks."

"Was it a vision?" Sam released the grip he had on the other psychic.

Caleb shook his head. "I don't know what the hell it was." He cut his gaze to Dean. "I do know it doesn't give me the warm fuzzies about this plan. Last time I had this kind of thing happen…"

"Don't go there." Dean shook his head. He was not rehashing this discussion. "This may have nothing to do with me. You could be working yourself up. This happened after Ian made that threat. It might be nothing more."

Caleb held out his hand, Dean grasped it to pull him up. "Or it could be a Knight thing. We're not even sure how it all works. You have to be careful. _I _have to be even more careful."

Dean frowned, understanding what his friend was saying. Caleb had always been protective; more so now that they had unofficially accepted their positions. "As long as you don't do anything stupid, like throwing yourself in front of any runaway trains, Damien." Dean let him go once he was sure Caleb was steady on his feet. "I mean it."

"Then don't end up tied to any tracks, Deuce." Caleb took a deep breath, his color returning to normal. He slapped Dean in the stomach. "I'm going to hit the snack machine in the lobby before we get on the road. Want anything, Runt?"

"No thanks."

"Suit yourself. Deuce?"

"The usual."

Caleb nodded. "Who needs steak and eggs when you've got M&M's and Mountain Dew. Breakfast of Champions."

The brothers watched him disappear into the motel lobby before Dean turned to his gaze to his brother. "Don't even say it."

"What? That I think this weird vision thing has something to do with your deal? And that I think you and Mac are way off base on this secret thing?" Sam shook his head. "Wouldn't dream of wasting my breath."

"Just keep your opinions to yourself, Sammy, and keep an eye on him."

"And what are you going to be doing? He's right to be worried about you. Ian wasn't bluffing."

"They obviously need me alive. I think I'm safe until we get the weapons." Dean grinned. "And if Ian wants to end me, he's going to have to get in line. But I don't want Damien getting hurt for nothing."

"Because you're already dead anyway?" Sam clenched his fists. "How can you think that way?"

"I'm a realist, Sam."

"You're a prick, Dean."

"You want to hitch a ride with the second-string Triad? You and their geek seem to be getting along."

"Just because I'm not locking horns with Elijah and we're not pissing on each other's boots doesn't mean I like him, Dean."

"I bet you ten you've got his email address and have invited him to be your friend on your 'My Space' page before this gig is up."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Shut up, jerk."

"Truth hurts, bitch."

Sam cocked a brow. "Yeah. It does, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes. "For that underhanded reminder, you're riding in the back with Josh."

_RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

"Tell me you two are not going to act like children again." Elijah pulled his backpack from the hatch of Gideon's Pathfinder. "You promised you'd drop the baiting conversation, Gideon."

"Baiting? I do not bait people."

"You kind of do," Ethan countered. "It's like verbal fly fishing."

Gideon took his pack out and locked the door. "And what is it you were doing?"

Ethan slipped on his sunglasses. "I was deflecting with humor. That's what I do."

"You were not helping, is what you were doing," Elijah reprimanded. He gazed out at the breathtaking scenery spread before them. "I don't think Reaves or Winchester is the joking type."

"They're jerks."

Elijah looked at his brother. "I'm sure they're saying the same thing about you."

"You like them so much, see if you can play on their team."

"I didn't say I liked them. I just know there are two sides to every story."

"What did you make of Reaves's outburst?" Gideon pressed the alarm button on his key ring, making sure the SUV was secured. "Then the whole 'incident' that Eli witnessed."

Elijah's brow furrowed. "You told the guy he was not suitable to represent The Brotherhood. From what I understand about him, he's committed to the cause, takes it to heart."

Ethan bumped Gideon's shoulder. "And you called him a demonic half-breed, which even for you was a little over the top. Might as well have tossed some holy water on him and shouted Cristo."

"I only spoke the truth." Gideon picked up his gear. "You think he doesn't realize what he is?"

Elijah sighed. "Baiting. It's called baiting."

"What about the psychic blip? You think he got a vision and is holding out on us?"

"It could have been. He appeared to be in pain. From my research, that can be a byproduct of premonitions."

"Or he could have just been sick of you, G. That's known to be a byproduct from one of your sanctimonious speeches, too."

Gideon ignored the dig. "I can just come out and ask him and you could see if he's lying."

Ethan shook his head. "You're forgetting Dean's iPod."

"Would it hurt you?" Gideon asked.

Elijah shrugged. "Griffin said I shouldn't worry considering the feedback is based on the amount of psychic energy expended. I don't think he was concerned for my welfare."

"You know, Griffin," Ethan said. "He always weighs in on the conservative side. Probably didn't want you to worry."

Elijah gave his brother a doubtful look. "Yes. I'm sure that's what he meant."

Gideon stroked his chin thoughtfully. "So the more powerful the psychic the greater the damage."

"Exactly." Elijah checked his water bottles. "From what Joshua said, Ian and Silas used Griffin's version on Caleb and Sam when they were protecting themselves from an Elemental attack."

"They probably weren't aware of the side effects," Gideon added.

"Weren't informed of the side effects." Elijah tightened a loose strap on his pack. "Joshua said it was a demonstration of power. They both ended up in the hospital, it was touch and go for awhile."

"Damn." Ethan popped his knuckles. "Ian probably planned it-pushed the envelope as usual. You know Silas; he can be a little naïve about some things."

"Whatever the reason, you can understand why Dean's concerned. No one likes to feel powerless. And they've been sheltered from all of us. It's got to be hard to accept that fact. If things had gone differently, it could have been us in their situation."

"Without the demonic connection, however."

Ethan grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "So, as long as you don't try any fancy psychic stuff, you should be in the clear?"

"I'll be fine." Elijah slid into his pack. "As long as you and your buddy don't start anymore fights."

Ethan made the sign of the cross over his heart. "We'll be good, Eli."

"As long as they are," Gideon added.

"Here's your chance to prove it." Elijah jutted his chin towards the black car approaching in the distance. "They're here."

RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ

Caleb pushed the driver's side door of the Impala open, then stepped out. "Can I say one more time how much this sucks?"

"If we say no, will it keep you from sharing that well-expressed opinion, yet again?"

Dean removed the keys and glanced over the seat to Joshua. "Just cover your ears and hum, Sawyer. That's what we do."

Joshua grabbed his bag and shoved the door open. "If anyone should be complaining, it's me. Having spent the last twenty four hours in this ancient relic of a vehicle, seen far more of Kansas, Iowa, and Nebraska than I ever intended, and learning extremely too much about the inner-sanctum you three share, should earn me some kind of saintly award."

"Hey." Dean got out of the car, then stretched. "I tried to convince you to ride with your buddies."

"They are _not _my buddies; although I'm sure they at least had the modern conveniences of air conditioning and a CD player."

Dean laughed. "Probably. They're driving a foreign job."

Caleb gestured to Joshua. "At least it's not a chick car."

Joshua frowned. "Excuse me if the Mercedes doesn't exude testosterone from the tailpipe like that behemoth of a truck you inherited."

"It's beautiful here," Sam spoke up as climbed out of the backseat, effectively changing the subject. "The pictures on the web didn't do it justice."

Caleb put his hands on his hips, looking around. He took a deep breath of the cool, dry air. The kid had a point. The artist in him couldn't help the innate urge to capture it. The unique blue of the sky was indescribable, a perfect backdrop for the white limestone of the cliffs and vibrant green of the trees. There was no denying the allure. "Good thing we're missing the tourist season. I'd hate to navigate this terrain at night."

"Yep." Dean popped the trunk. "This time next week, they'll be a load of people with cameras and fanny packs."

"Speaking of tourists." Caleb gestured to the three men coming towards them, all decked out in hiking and climbing gear. "Looks like Dudley Do-Right and his goody-two-shoe brigade raided Camping World on their way here."

Dean cocked a brow. "Gideon Lane was a Boy Scout wasn't he?"

"Eagle Scout," Joshua informed them. "All of them."

"Big deal." Dean leaned against the car's bumper. "I was a Wolf Cub."

Caleb rolled his eyes. "For a day. I had to come pick you up from your one and only meeting because you got into a fight with one of the other kids. The pack leader asked very politely that I not bring you back."

"I remember." Dean nodded, a nostalgic smile gracing his face. "You told him where he could put his merit badge."

Caleb laughed, remembering finding the nine-year-old sequestered away from the other boys, nursing a busted lip. It hadn't been funny to him at the time. "Nobody puts Deuce in a corner."

Dean glanced up at his friend. "Thanks for that."

Caleb returned his gaze to the trio who were almost upon them. "Just doing my job, kiddo." He pushed away, meeting Gideon head on. "Just like now."

"Round two." Sam sighed. "Ding, ding, ding."

"Is there a problem?" Gideon dropped his pack.

Caleb pointed a finger at him. "I think you and I need to make sure we're on the same page before we go any further."

"I think you already made yourself quite clear back at the restaurant."

The psychic tilted his head, testing his ability to read Gideon. The other hunter's blocks were strong, but Caleb could bypass them without much effort if it became necessary. "I didn't want you to mistake my instructions as empty threats flung in the heat of the moment."

"You mean the part about running us through?" Ethan scratched his head. "Because I was kind of hoping that was just hype."

"No, I meant that." Caleb glanced to Ethan, then back to Gideon. "If you do anything that I think isn't in everyone's best interest, I'll have to take measures to ensure safety. It's what a Knight does."

Gideon's frown grew. "That's merely a much more civilized way of threatening us."

"Sometimes my human side takes over my mouth."

Joshua cleared his throat. "I think Caleb is merely asserting the need for us all to be cognizant of each other's feelings on certain things and..."

Dean rolled his eyes at Sawyer's PR spin. "Shut up, Dr. Phil," he interrupted, moving alongside Caleb. "What Caleb's saying is we want to know what you're doing, when you're planning on doing it, and _why_ you're doing it, all before you do it."

"Is that an official order from the future Guardian?"

"Do you naturally speak that way, Lane, or are you intentionally trying to bait me?" Dean asked.

Elijah coughed conspicuously and Gideon shot him a baleful look before facing Dean again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound challenging."

"Sure you didn't."

Ethan stepped forward, his hands out in a gesture of truce. "How about we drop all the titles, prefixes, and name-calling and just be average run-of-the-mill hunters for awhile." He looked at Caleb. "Everyone I've talked to agrees on one thing about you, Reaves, you're a damn good hunter." He gestured to Sam and Dean. "Your Dad was a legend in the field. You three were trained by the best. I know you don't know us, but we're also good at what we do. Look over G's attitude, ignore Eli's ambiguous nerdy comments and you might even find us an asset to the team."

Dean looked at Joshua. "Mackland should have made _him_ the peacekeeper. He speaks our language."

Sam spoke before Caleb could. "I think he's right, Caleb. We need to function as a unit, not as opposing forces. If Ian's out there, the more people to watch our backs the better."

Caleb glanced at Sam. The kid knew him too well-using 'John' speak was sneaky. If he was going to be The Knight, and Caleb really did want to be The Knight, he was going to have to learn to work with other hunters on terms he couldn't control sometimes. "Do you all have the map?"

"I have it." Eli held up the document. "The trails have changed over the years, but from what I can tell the place we need is about a mile from here."

"Do we know what we're looking for? Any certain landmarks?" Sam asked.

Eli offered him the map. "It's not really clear on that point. I mean there are no mysterious clues like in Indiana Jones."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, Riley would have loved that."

Ethan nodded. "I promised him a copy of that when we're done."

"It's only fair, considering he suffered a concussion and all."

"Dean." Sam elbowed his brother.

"Ian improvised on Griffin's orders," Ethan defended. "Griffin would never have hurt Riley on purpose."

Caleb looked at him and something in the other man's earnest gaze kept him from his first reply. Mackland was right; Jim had gone to great lengths to preserve a father figure for Mathews. He bit his lip, nodded. "Ian's a lone wolf now. We'll make sure he doesn't hurt anyone else."

Dean read over Sam's shoulder, pointed to a place on the map. "This doesn't look like it's too far from where the river turns and feeds into the Sinks." He lifted his eyes to Elijah. "But didn't Porter say that the openings were too narrow, jammed with debris and junk?"

"He did. We're hoping the geologists missed something we won't." Elijah pulled a notebook from the side of his pack. "In Daniel's journal he wrote that The Triad left their mark on the earth. Hunters would know where to look; members of The Brotherhood could enter but only by a Guardian's will.

"This brings up a point that I still don't get." Ethan moved his gaze to Dean. "How do you know if you're the chosen one? I mean, chosen by whom? No offense, but the new Triad isn't exactly official yet."

"I'm guessing the whole 'promise of death to any imposter' will pretty much be the deciding factor." Dean's mouth twitched as he met Gideon's gaze. "I'll let you go first, Boy Scout, seeing as how you're pretty sure you're the better choice."

"This isn't funny, Deuce." Caleb growled.

"It's a little funny." Dean laughed. "Did you see his face?"

Caleb wanted a real answer to Ethan's question, one that didn't send his heart into overdrive and have his head feeling like it was in a vice. He returned his gaze to Mathews. "Are you sure there was nothing in any of the journals…"

"No." Elijah shook his head. "Wilmington and Tanner were ranchers and hunters, simple plain-spoken men. I think they said what they meant."

"Death means death," Dean said, flatly.

"Exactly why you're not doing anything until I deem it safe?"

Gideon shot Caleb a surprised look. "You don't believe he's the next Guardian?"

"I know he is." Caleb glared at Lane. "But that doesn't mean I'm willing to let him walk into some trial by fire."

"Being The Guardian is about one's willingness to sacrifice for the good of the many, The Brotherhood."

"Dean has the sacrifice part down," Sam said.

Caleb frowned at the younger Winchester, didn't miss the glare Dean shot his brother. "Nobody's sacrificing themselves on my watch." He smirked at Gideon. "But if you're so willing, you're more than welcome to go first, like Dean suggested."

"I think he'll pass on that," Ethan said. "Your guy is the one who's expected at the coronation."

Joshua let out a heavy exhale. "All of this is a moot point if we don't find the entrance to the tomb and discover whatever it is that The Guardian is supposed to do."

"For once, I agree with, Josh." Dean turned, grabbed his duffel, two handguns and a shotgun from the trunk of the Impala. "Little more action, lot less talking."

"We're in a state park." Ethan pointed to the weapons. "You could at least be discreet."

"You gonna' arrest me?" Dean passed the guns to Caleb, retrieved two blades and a box of ammunition. "Because I doubt you have jurisdiction here."

"I'll let it slide this time." Ethan grinned. "But when this is over…I might think twice about that reward Henrickson's offering."

"I hope you're joking." Caleb slid one of the hand guns into the back of his jeans and handed the other to Sam. "Because you remember that whole running you through dialogue…"

"He's joking," Elijah answered for his twin brother. "He's always attempting to be humorous, often in the most inopportune times."

Sam picked up the rest of his gear. "That sounds eerily familiar."

Dean slapped his brother on the shoulder. "See? Geek-bonding. How sweet." He glanced to Elijah, slammed the trunk of the Impala. "Are you on My Space?"

"Can we go now?" Sam growled.

Caleb gestured for Gideon to lead the way. "After you."

_RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

The terrain wasn't too difficult, nor was following the Popo Agie River that rushed through the canyon. Sam enjoyed himself. The sound of the rushing water combined with the perfect weather lessened the threatening thoughts that wanted to dampen his spirits. He listened to Elijah's running dialogue of the detailed history of the park, made comments when the professor touched on something he too had found interesting in his research. As much as he hated to admit it, Sam found himself liking Elijah despite his earlier feelings of irritation at The Boonedocks.

"Will the water level prevent us from reaching the Sinks?" Sam asked after Elijah's revelation the river was at its peak, considering the winter melt off and the amount of snowfall the Wyoming winter had provided.

"We may be in for a swim, but I think it will be possible." Elijah pointed to Lane, who was in front of them, along with Ethan and Joshua. Dean and Caleb were pulling up the rear. "Gideon brought a couple of portable oxygen tanks and diving masks in case we need them."

Sam glanced over his shoulder when he felt a quick flash of anxiety from Caleb. "But that probably won't be the case. Right?" Caleb was an excellent swimmer. They all were. It was part of the John Winchester training program. You would have thought the man was a Navy SEAL.

Elijah shook his head. "From the pictures I've seen, the water in the cavern appears fairly shallow. But the current will be rough, sort of like breakers on a cove."

"Lovely. It's getting better and better."

Sam grinned at Caleb's comment. He glanced over his shoulder and watched as Dean shoved the older hunter. "Don't tell me you forgot your waders and inner tube, Damien?"

"Mac didn't mention getting wet."

"Did you block out the whole raging river and underground lake part of that conversation?"

"Does Caleb not like the water?"

Elijah's quiet question brought Sam's attention back to the professor as they picked their way along the trail. "It's not his favorite thing."

Elijah nodded. "I have an intense fear of heights." He jutted his chin towards the two men in front of them. "I blame it on Gideon and Ethan. They once used me as a guinea pig for one of their inventions. I'll spare you the details but it involved a dramatic launching from the top of our horse barn and left me nursing a broken arm and some cracked ribs."

Sam laughed. "Can't say I was ever endangered by Dean or Caleb." He glanced back once more. "More like smothered."

Elijah gave him an understanding smile. "I think the three of us being closer in age probably saved me from that."

Sam shrugged. "It wasn't always a bad thing. You get used to it." It was true. Sam knew if he got in trouble, someone would be there to save him. But over the years it had become as much of a responsibility as a comfort.

The other hunter nodded. "I'm sure it can also be daunting at times."

Sam frowned, wondering if Elijah had the ability to read thoughts. Joshua had not included that bit of information. He licked his lips. "When they risk life and limb, yeah."

"Some cultures believe if you save a man's life, he's your responsibility forever."

Sam glanced over his shoulder at his brother, who was currently involved in some animated tale, probably a distraction for Caleb. "Dean would agree with that. Caleb, too."

Elijah didn't have a chance to reply as Gideon's loud voice sounded above the roar of the Popo Agie.

"There it is. The Sinks."

Sam followed Elijah's gaze and sighted the dark cavern several yards ahead of them. It was as if the force of the river had burst through the canyon wall like Mother Nature's personal wrecking ball, causing a gaping crevice.

"Wow." Elijah breathed. "The power water wields never fails to amaze me."

Sam nodded. It was just like Griffin had described. The water rushed into the Sinks beneath the low overhang, crashing against the unyielding walls and simply disappeared.

"We'll have to pick our way across the rocks, and make our way inside the cavern," Gideon called.

Joshua dropped his pack with a disgusted look. "No one mentioned the need to frolic in the water."

Elijah cocked a brow. "Does Joshua have a fear of water also?"

Sam grinned. "No. He's just worried about his designer hiking boots."

"I heard that," Sawyer scoffed.

"You being a girl again, Josh?" Dean asked as he and Caleb joined the others at the bank of the river.

"If you're so quick to get wet, then please be the trailblazer and go first." Joshua gestured to the river.

"We won't be the first." Caleb pointed the ground near them. "Those tracks aren't ours."

"I saw that." Ethan bent down, studied a faded shoe print. "This is small for a man."

Caleb joined him, tracing his fingers along the grooves stamped in the soft earth. "Meg. They've scouted the area."

"Rose," Joshua corrected.

"Uber-bitch," Dean said.

"Can you sense her now?" Sam asked, watching Caleb as he stared towards the cavern.

"She's here." His gaze searched the wooded area and bare cliffs surrounding them. "Somewhere close. Ian and Fisher are with her." The older psychic pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "I can't get a fix on where." He looked up at Sam. "She's doing something to shield them-it's like pounding my head on a concrete wall."

"Could Ian have one of those iPod gizmos?" Ethan asked, glancing towards Dean.

"No." Caleb answered. "I've been zapped with one of those. This is different." He met Sam's gaze. "You getting anything, Runt?"

"No." Sam turned to Elijah. "How about you?"

The professor looked slightly taken aback, shocked he was being included. "That's not really my area. I can get flashes of thoughts, but I need physical contact." He lifted his hand. "But if you want to know if she's lying about something, hey, I'm your man."

Dean snorted. "Considering most demons lie all the time, I'd say you'd be batting a hundred."

"We don't choose the gifts we get." Elijah shrugged. "They choose us."

Caleb stood, sharing a quick look with Sam. "Be thankful you weren't picked for the death vision team."

"You think this a trick?" Gideon looked nervous. "We're completely in the open. They knew we were coming, and I imagine if you can sense the demon, then she can sense you."

"She's knows we're here." Caleb sighed. "But Ian already let us know they would be waiting."

"He could easily kill us from the get go and take what he wants."

"Meaning me?" Dean laughed. "He knows better. He's worked with me before, knows I won't do a damn thing he wants if he backs me in a corner."

"Deuce is right. He'll want us in a position where he can swoop in and claim the prize with the least amount of work on his part."

Dean glanced from Caleb to Sam, his face grim. "He also knows what _will_ get me to do what he wants."

"You suggest we stay behind and I will personally kick your ass before Ian has the chance to even try," Caleb replied.

"I'll help him," Sam added. It would be just like Dean to think he should do the job alone to keep the people he cared about safe.

Dean held his hands up. "Just don't expect me not to say I told you so when the shit hits the fan."

"Like you've ever held back from rubbing our faces in it before?" Caleb asked, moving past Dean to come alongside Gideon.

"So how do you want to do this?" Lane asked, hefting his pack higher on his shoulders.

"We have no choice but to go in. Searching for Ian and the others will be a waste of time. They'll stay hidden, waiting to see what we find. ."

"Then let's not disappoint them."

Despite the warm afternoon temperature, wading into the frigid river water took Sam's breath away. The current tugged and yanked at his legs, soaking his shoes and drenching his jeans up to his knees. Traversing the slimy wet river bedrocks was like walking on a sheet of ice. More than once Sam almost lost his balance. The fear of being the only one to take a header into the freezing water kept him on his feet more so than any natural agility.

It was easy to see why the average hiker or enthusiastic explorer would not have found the opening that Daniel Wilmington's Triad had so cleverly placed in the back of the cave. Not many would have fought the cold river long enough to do a close inspection of the limestone walls, considering the water was almost to their waists at the apex.

"Here," Elijah called out, pointing to a place nearly three feet above their heads. The 'X' that marked the spot was three interlocking circles etched at the top of the cavern.

"Well I'll be damned." Dean whistled. "Our boys didn't have a lot of imagination, now did they?"

"I'm guessing time played a part in their decision," Elijah said. "Convenience over cleverness, considering they were expecting the revolt that eventually cost Daniel and Cole their lives."

"Still, they did their homework." Ethan pointed to one of the jagged crevices in the back of the cave. "Who would have thought there was anything beyond this except more rock? And only someone looking for the sign would actually know what it was."

Caleb splashed through the water to place his hand directly below the symbol of The Triad. "There's something here alright." The large flat stone jutted from the wall, appearing to the mere passerby as any other natural formation of the cave. "This isn't limestone. It's silver."

"What?" Dean made it to his friend's side, peering at the black, shiny rock. "Like in the same silver as our rings?"

"Same silver." Caleb slid his hand over the rock, a small smile gracing his lips. "I can sense it."

"No way."

"Touch it." Caleb cut his gaze to Dean, nodded to the black stone. "_Feel_ it."

Dean quirked a brow. "Is it going to start to glow, Obi wan?"

"Idiot," Caleb mumbled with a frown, before grabbing Dean's hand and placing it on the rock. "Just do it."

Dean smirked, but closed his eyes for a moment. He jerked his hand away. "Fuck."

"Told you." Caleb grinned. "Same energy."

"It doesn't look like our rings," Joshua commented with a scowl. "And how exactly would it have gotten here?"

"Water." Caleb looked at Dean. "The Guardian is somehow connected to water." He frowned at Joshua. "And I think a big chunk of 'shiny' silver would have gotten some geek geologist's attention."

"Water is The Guardian's element," Gideon said. "Just as fire belongs to The Knight, and earth to The Scholar." He frowned. "Didn't Jim tell you the story of how Merlin created The Brotherhood?"

"No." Caleb dropped his hand from the wall. "Griffin told me."

"I think Jim thought he had more time," Sam interrupted. "He never got into the specifics with us."

"So water represents The Guardian?" Dean looked at Gideon. "What exactly does that mean?"

Lane shrugged. "You tell us."

"What?" Dean snapped. He lurched away from the rock, would have fallen in the water if Caleb didn't reach out to steady him. "You think I know what to do?"

"Guardians control the silver," Gideon gestured to the rock. "This has to be why Daniel wrote the Guardian would have to allow them entrance."

Sam's gut twisted. He wasn't sure if all the fear was his own or if Caleb had realized the same thing. Was this the test his brother would have to face?

"Maybe you should just wait on the bank, Deuce, while we see if this thing can be budged."

Dean shook his head. "You think this is the doomsday part?"

"I'm not willing to take a chance on it."

"I think the real threat comes when we find the place where the weapons are kept," Elijah said thoughtfully. "In Daniel's journal when he talked about returning the weapons to the 'source'. He wrote of the true trial taking place in the inner sanctum when the Guardian would walk alone."

Caleb glared at the professor. "You know Mathews I find it interesting that you keep remembering this wisdom Wilmington imparted at the most convenient times. Maybe I'd feel different if we had gotten to actually _read _the journals ourselves instead of counting on your recanting it to us at your will!"

Sam silently urged Caleb to calm down. He knew the older man's anger was stemming from worry, but losing his cool wasn't going to change the situation at hand. "Dean, do you have any idea what you should do?"

His brother's green gaze flashed. "Well let's see, Sammy, considering the amount of on the job training Pastor Jim gave me I'd say that's a big negative."

"Daniel said the Guardian would have to will it to be so." Elijah looked at Dean. "As I said before, I think they spoke what they meant." He gestured to the rock. "Perhaps you should merely will it away."

"Will it away?" Dean laughed, tapping his head. "In case you didn't read it in my personnel file, I missed the whole gift thing when the Big Guy was handing out abilities. So, I can 'will' it all I want, but nothing's going to happen, Professor."

"Try it."

Dean turned to Caleb. "You're kidding me? You think I can move this rock with my mind, Damien?"

"I think The Guardian can control the silver."

"It won't hurt to try, Dean," Sam said. His brother had no problem believing the most of other people, but it was a huge leap of faith for him to entertain the idea of greatness for himself. "What are you going to lose?"

"How about my self respect?"

"Let's not forget the part where we are all freezing in this godforsaken cavern, Dean!" Joshua spat, through chattering teeth. "So either you do your Guardian thing or I'm removing myself from this river and calling Mackland."

Dean took a deep breath and looked at Gideon. "Let me guess where the hot air element comes in."

Gideon nodded. "Merlin believed magic was in the air we breathe." He gestured towards the rock. "I'll be willing to try it first if you want me to?"

"No." Dean shook his head, then glanced to Caleb and Sam. "I'll do it."

He moved to the rock again, and Sam watched him falter as he placed his right hand on the stone. "Just focus, Dean."

"Just shut up, Skywalker." He flashed his brother an annoyed glare. "I'll do this my own way."

Sam could only imagine what his brother was thinking, what silent mantra he might invoke as he tried to do the unimaginable. Like Caleb, Sam could no longer read his brother's thoughts, though he had done so infrequently after Caleb had trained him how. Sam had never needed his abilities to be on the same wavelength as Dean. But at that moment, as Dean closed his eyes and furrowed his brow in deep concentration, Sam felt distance between them.

The rock shimmered. What once had been solid wavered, changing from black, to steel grey and then murky green. Then the rock was no more solid than the river pounding against them. The silver melted away as if Dean's touch were a torch. It dropped in a heavy sheet to join the water below.

"Holy fuck, Deuce. That was incredible."

Sam looked at his brother, seeing Dean as the next Guardian. Sam had understood the concept on an intangible level. The reality was a tragedy. His brother was Dean the next leader of The Brotherhood with an uncertain future because of the deal his brother had made to save Sam's life.

Dean appeared shell-shocked by what had happened, by what _he_ did. He was standing in the same spot, his hand now hovering in empty space. The transformation of the silver had left a large opening high up on the cave wall, above the waterline. He watched his brother turn towards Caleb as the psychic spoke. Caleb's face instantly changed from one of wonderment to that of concern.

Sam instinctively stepped closer to Dean. "Caleb?"

The psychic didn't look at him, instead remaining focused on Dean. He reached his hand out to grip Dean's arm. "Deuce? You okay?"

Dean didn't answer. Sam watched his unbreakable brother waver, his mouth opening slightly as if he were about to speak. But his legs suddenly gave way, and Dean collapsed into the water.

"Deuce!" Caleb caught him, going to his knees to keep Dean's body from going under.

Sam lunged forward, grabbed his brother's other arm. He barely saw the sliver of mossy green as their gazes met before Dean's eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped unmoving against Caleb. _No. Not yet. _"Dean!"

Chapter six-in two weeks.

A/N: Don't freak out. Dean is not going to have super powers! I love our Dean the way his is, smart, hot, and totally capable of being Captain Onehelluva Big Brother without any abilities. But, BUT, there are some things a Guardian must do…and remember in Paper Tiger when Jim took Griffin's ring…Hmmm, what could this all mean? I hate cliffies, but I mean I was already up to twenty-five pages. Tidia took my pen away!


	7. Chapter 6

To the Victor Go the Spoils

By: Ridley

Beta: Tidia

_November 11, 1840_

_Word came early this morning-though I knew the ugly truth long before. I was not spared details in my dreams. Their pain, their suffering was my own. And now they are gone. My brothers are dead. And I am alone._

_-Excerpt from Samuel Colt's journal._

_RCJ _

Dean awoke slowly, awareness slipping over him like low-lying fog on a pond. His body felt sluggish, as if he'd been asleep for days. A dull pain thrummed behind his eyes, reminding him of too many hangovers. He reached a hand up to touch his head, jumped when someone caught his wrist and guided it back to the floor.

"Don't move too quickly."

Dean forced his eyes open at the voice. "Sammy? What…"

"Take it easy, Dean." Gideon Lane suddenly leaned over him, wielding a penlight. "You've been unconscious for a little while."

"Back off," Dean growled, swatting at the EMT's hand.

"Dean," Sam said. "Let him look you over."

Dean moved his head to the side where Gideon was kneeling, a black medical bag beside him, stethoscope around his neck. "What? Why?"

Gideon placed the stethoscope against Dean's chest, listening for a moment. "Something happened to you when you manipulated the rock. You collapsed." He checked Dean's pulse. "Your stats have leveled out now. That's good. Your heart was thundering like you had raced a marathon."

"The rock?" Dean remembered the rock, the silver. It all seemed like some bizarre dream. He hoped he could discount it like his run-in with the Lady of the Lake.

"Elijah thinks it was some kind of metaphysical exhaustion," Sam said. "Whatever you did to the silver pulled too much energy. Your body wasn't prepared for it."

Dean glared at Gideon. "I didn't have my Wheaties. Whose fault was that?"

"The lack of nourishment probably didn't help. How are you feeling now? Any dizziness or pain?"

"Tired," Dean said. He was tired of all the freakiness and surprises. He looked around, searching their surroundings. He could hear the rush of water somewhere below them. It echoed off the limestone walls and high rock ceiling. "Where the hell are we? Where's Caleb?"

"When he found out you were stable, he and Ethan took a look around, scout which passage we should take next."

Dean struggled to sit up. "You let him go? By himself?"

Sam helped his brother. "He's in charge. Remember?"

"They haven't gone far," Gideon said. "And he's not alone. He's with Ethan."

"We're not with him." Dean had no reason other than Jim's consideration to trust Ethan Mathews, any of them really. It wasn't enough.

"Ethan is the most trustworthy person I know."

"That doesn't reassure me."

"So, you think he's okay?" Sam broke the stalemate.

Gideon nodded. "I believe he'll be fine. Stubbornness can be an advantage on some fronts. He should eat and drink something to get his strength back. If need be, we can let him rest awhile longer before continuing on."

"_He's _right here. And I'll be fine, Sam." He had to be fine. He couldn't take care of Sam while dealing with Guardian weirdness. Dean shrugged off his brother's grip as proof of his recuperation. "We shouldn't waste anymore time." Dean didn't have time to waste.

"Suit yourself." Gideon stood, taking his bag with him.

"Thanks," Sam said.

Lane nodded once more. "We have some energy bars in our packs when Eli and Joshua return with them."

"Are you sure you're okay, Dean?"

Sam had yet to release Dean. He looked at his brother, understood he wasn't merely inquiring about his physical health. Dean forced a half-grin. "Peachy."

Sam's scowl deepened, but he let his hand slide from Dean's shoulder. "You scared the crap out of us."

"Wasn't exactly fun for me either, you know." Dean looked around them. "So we're inside the canyon now?"

"Yeah." Sam gestured to the large cavern. "The water flows from the Popie Agie into the first cavern that the entrance opened into. Then a narrow passage, like a floodgate, funnels the water through the mountain. At least that's the theory. We're sort of on the second floor, away from the water. Caleb and I carried you up here. This room is pretty large, but from here it branches off into several narrow passageways. That's what Ethan and Caleb are checking."

Dean touched his head, but jutted his chin to Sam. "Can you tell if he's okay?"

"He knew the minute you woke up. He's on his way back."

"It still freaks me out that you two communicate like that."

"Yeah, well, what you did out there was pretty freaky, too. I don't think either one of us have ever performed an alchemic feat with our mind."

"Excuse me?"

"That's what Elijah compared it too. You changed the make-up of a metal, turning it into another entirely different element just by touching it. I'll warn you-he's very excited about it."

"So, I'm King Midas now?" Dean sighed. "It could have been a fluke. Right? I mean, maybe any hunter could have put the whammy on that thing."

Sam's mouth twitched, a hint of a dimple showing. "You just don't want to admit you're special."

"I know I'm special." Dean snorted. "I look in the mirror everyday thank you very much. I just don't want to be you and Damien 'special'." Dean didn't have the luxury of being burdened by some kind of gift. He needed all his energy to watch out for his brother, who was blessed enough for both of them.

"That hurts my feelings, Deuce," Caleb said, jogging up behind them. "There was a time when you wanted to be just like me."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Please. I went through one weird phase at a very impressionable age and your ego just won't let it go."

Caleb clasped his hand and pulled him to his feet. Dean glanced up at him, but the world seemed to shift at that same moment, he felt himself sway dangerously forward. "Whoa. Head rush."

Caleb grasped his shoulders. "Hey? You okay? Maybe you should sit back down?"

Dean kept his eyes closed, breathing carefully through his nose. "No…I'm good."

"Dean?" Sam's hand wrapped around his wrist.

"I just got up too fast."

"Are you sure? No playing around here, Dude. We need to know if you're not okay."

Dean smirked. Caleb was doing a damn good impression of the John Winchester solemn tone and sober face. "I'm good." Dean straightened his shoulders, regained his balance. "Really."

"Gideon said he should eat and drink something."

"We're listening to Gideon's advice now?" Dean asked.

Sam let him go. "He's the closest thing to a doctor we've got."

"Josh is going to be pissed he doesn't get to use his alter ego, Homeopathic Boy during this gig. We'll hurt his feelings and he'll tattle to Mac."

Caleb snorted. "We'll let him make you some tea, just to save face."

"You trying to make me feel better or worse, Damien?"

"Better." Caleb gave him a slight shake, released his hold. "But if you try the dramatic fainting again, Sammy and I will so kick your ass."

"Because you two have never given me anything to worry about? Try being in my shoes during a vision sometime"

"He has a point," Sam said, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, well, he's had time to get used to it," Caleb said. "I had a hard enough time keeping him safe when he was normal, pain in the ass, Captain Onehelluva Big Brother, Dean Winchester."

"I'm still normal."

"You're still a pain in the ass. What you did out there wasn't normal." Caleb grinned. "It was fucking cool, Deuce. You finally got some real super powers to go along with the cape."

"Cool?" Sam grunted. "He passed out."

"Scary as hell." Caleb winked at Dean. "But still very cool."

Caleb was practically bouncing on his toes. "You're just tickled pink to prove that you're right-for once. One step closer to your Three Musketeer Agenda."

"Damn straight." Caleb glanced to Sam and then to Dean. "We're the Triad. Us. There's nothing standing in our way now."

Dean lowered his voice, even though they seemed alone. "Did you forget about the three Boy Scouts waiting to take our place? Or how about the two hundred plus demons running amuck? Then there is the whole reason we're even on this job-weapons of mass destruction, Meg and her new multiple personality disorder."

"Any of this ringing a bell, Damien? I think we have bigger things to think about than getting name plaques engraved for our office doors."

"You just live to bring me down, don't you?"

Dean wanted to buy into Caleb's ideal future, at least for his friend and brother. But he wouldn't be a part of it-super powers or not. "It's called being realistic."

"It's called being a buzz kill." Caleb jerked his thumb towards Sam. "And it's usually the runt's role."

"Leave me out of this," Sam said. "From now on, consider me Switzerland."

His brother had never given him that particular luxury when it came to arguments between him and their father. Dean looked at Caleb. His best friend was still grinning like a fool.

"Will you take off the rose-colored glasses, Pollyanna? Weren't you just ranting about how everyone in our lives had lied to us? Now you want to embrace their plan?"

"I'm not excusing how Pastor Jim and the others went about things." Caleb sobered, ran a hand through his hair. "But being The Triad has its advantages, man."

"So, you're on a power trip? That's not you, man."

"If it's the kind of power that protects you, protects Sam, then yes it is."

Dean should have known. It all came back to that. "It didn't protect Dad. Or Jim. And look what happened to Wilmington and Tanner. Dude, there are no guarantees."

"It's better than the alternative."

"Which is?"

"We're cast in the role of the enemy, shunned by The Brotherhood. We would be fair game. And for me and Sam, that doesn't offer a pleasant ending. I'm guessing we'd move to the top of the most-hunted list."

Dean licked his lips. "True." He worried about the same thing happening after he was gone. He only hoped he could do something to secure their protection before that time came. If that meant finding another Guardian, then so be it.

"It's good to see you awake." Elijah entered the cave, Joshua trailing behind him.

"I believe it all might have been a ruse to avoid bringing in the gear." Joshua huffed, pausing for a moment to catch his breath from the climb. He dumped Sam and Caleb's bags at their feet. "At least you two could have made yourselves useful. It wasn't an easy task bringing the supplies up those rocks without a sturdy pack mule on hand."

"I was on search and recon." Caleb cut his gaze to Sam. "And Sammy was doing bedside vigil. Besides you're the best jackass I know, Josh."

Joshua didn't have a chance to reply as Elijah moved around him to take a step closer to Dean. "What happened back there at the Sinks?" he asked.

Dean flinched under Mathews's intense scrutiny, recognizing the dogged look of curiosity. "Sorry to disappoint you, Professor. But I don't remember much after touching the rock." Dean wouldn't be willing to share with Elijah even if he could remember what exactly it was he did.

"Perhaps it will come back to you. It would be fascinating to know the dynamics of what took place."

"I bet you tried to statistically disprove the existence of Santa when you were a kid, didn't you?"

"Guilty as charged." Ethan joined them, followed closely by Gideon. "Eli can analyze the fun out of almost anything. You should have seen the chart he made for his first date."

Gideon stepped forward, offered Dean a Power Bar and a bottle of juice. "Eat this. Then we should see how much territory we can cover before it gets much later."

Dean took the provisions with a lifted brow. "Doctor's orders?"

Gideon frowned. "I'm not a doctor."

Dean glanced to Ethan. "He doesn't even get The Three Stooges does he?"

Ethan shrugged. "G nips fun in the bud before it even gets started."

"Did you two decide upon a path for us to take?" Gideon asked.

"There were three possibilities," Caleb said. "One of them a dead end, the other was narrow as hell. The path of least resistance makes sense to me."

"It's trial and error then." Gideon picked up one of the packs, looked at Caleb. "Is there any need to try and cover that entrance down there?"

"It's almost dark, no tourists in the area. I doubt if any camouflage will work for Ian and company."

"Will you be able to sense them if they try to follow?" Ethan asked.

Caleb exhaled heavily. "I'm not sure. It all depends on whether Meg wants me to or not."

Joshua cleared his throat. "Rose."

Dean snorted. "Uber bitch."

"Whatever." Caleb lifted his and Dean's packs. "We have to be on guard for anything. Ethan, you and Gideon take point. Sam and I will pull flank. We'll spread out so not to give such an easy target."

The twisting and turning passageway made for arduous terrain. Some of the tunnel required stooping to avoid the low rock ceilings, while other parts opened into cave-like spaces. It was cold inside the mountain, wet and damp. At some points the faint echo of water could be heard stirring beneath them, giving Dean an impression of what it might have been like for Jonah in the belly of the whale. He felt the tug of exhaustion as his muscles strained against the uphill grade they were traversing. Dean stumbled, Caleb's arm shot out to steady him. "Do you need to stop?"

"No." Dean didn't mean to snap, but he wasn't enjoying the closed in space or Caleb and Sam's constant chatter about his new found ability. The fact he felt weak, nauseous and completely off his game wasn't helping his mood either.

"So, do you think you can do that same thing with a ring as you did with that rock?" Caleb asked.

"Dude." Dean sighed. The older hunter obviously didn't get the hint. "Could we just drop the silver talk?" Dean was trying hard not to think about the implications of what he had done. The current discussion was not making it easy for him.

"I always wondered how Jim got the rings," Caleb said. "Do you think they come from the water? Special water or can it be any kind of water?"

Sam, who was behind them, obviously felt the need to reply. "Riley and Bradley theorized that the 'B-Bomb' could destroy the source of the silver. That would go along with the idea that there is a specific location for the water."

Dean rubbed at his eyes and continued walking, pulling slightly ahead of Caleb to leave the two chatter-boxes.

"But where?" Caleb asked.

"Anyone's guess," Sam replied. "How many generations of Brotherhood have failed to unravel that particular mystery?"

"Then how can destroying one body of water end the entire Brotherhood, destroying all the rings made from countless generations?"

"I don't think that it's that specific or literal. Maybe the weapon doesn't actually taint the water, but destroys something in the water. Or someone?"

"The Lady of the Lake?" Caleb shook his head. "That's so incredible-how can she be real?"

"Vampires are real. Fairies are real," Sam said. "Merlin was obviously real."

"You know what else is real?" Dean stopped, bracing his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He wasn't able to tolerate the theories any longer. "The headache you two bitches are giving me with your jabbering."

In all honesty, a part of him longed to share his own experience with Sam and Caleb, but innately he knew it was a moment meant only for him. It was a Guardian thing. "Can't we just concentrate on the job at hand?"

Sam frowned. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Will you stop asking me that, Samantha?" He glanced ahead of them, unable to see the other hunters who had disappeared around a turn. The place was a freaking maze. "I'm just sick of the topic of discussion."

Caleb stopped beside him. "Deuce, this is your destiny we're talking about."

"Right. But you see Obi-wan, I don't want a _destiny_." The Lady of the Lake spoke of his destiny and look where that had gotten him. A one way ticket to hell.

He held Caleb's gaze. "I prefer to stay the Han Solo in this group. Han flew the kick-ass Falcon, pulled Luke's ass out of the fire, and got the hot chick with the honey bun hair in the end. I _like_ that future. You didn't see Yoda passing down any knowledge to him or making him levitate the Falcon out of a swamp. He didn't have any 'great destiny' planned out for him. He just made sure Luke got to fulfill his."

Caleb reached out a hand and placed it against Dean's forehead. "Do you have a fever?"

Dean slapped him away. "I'm good! Freakin' great! Now get off."

Caleb removed the water bottle clipped to his belt buckle and shoved it towards Dean. "Then what the hell did all that spiel mean?"

Dean reluctantly took the water and gulped a few swallows before passing it to Sam, who also happened to be staring at him as if he might pass out at any moment. "It means maybe I don't want this job." Being The Guardian should have afforded him the opportunity to protect those he loved; instead he would be abandoning them all too soon. What the hell was changing water into silver going to do for him? Dean was pretty sure water was a scarcity down south. "I don't want to control the silver and decide who does and who doesn't get to be in our club. Jim picked the wrong guy."

"I don't think Jim was the only one calling the shots," Sam said. He screwed the cap back on the bottle and tossed it to Caleb. "There's another aspect to this."

"He's right, Dean. You being the next Guardian isn't something Jim could have proclaimed on his own." Caleb returned the water to his side. "It sounds like there are safeguards in place. It's not just an appointed position like with The Knight and The Scholar. There's some kind of supernatural connection to it."

"Of course there is, Damien. This is my life we're talking about! The supernatural lives to screw me over." Dean wondered if Lancelot and Arthur ever felt like puppets on a string.

"This is your chance to exert some control, man. Don't you see that?"

"All I see is a ball and chain tying me to something I never asked for-like Elijah said- an arranged marriage."

"You don't mean that," Caleb said.

"Yes I do." Jim had staked his life on him, believed in him. Now Dean was going to disappoint everyone who had ever cared about him, both living and dead. He would have to fix it before the inevitable happened. Maybe Jim had left him a loophole.

Dean lowered his voice. "Look, Gideon isn't that bad of a guy. He's the type to memorize the entire rule book. His grandfather was a Guardian. I think The Brotherhood needs someone who knows what he's doing, someone who isn't seen as some kind of outcast or intruder."

"Where the hell does that leave me and Sammy?"

"I want you two to have the chance to be The Triad, but…"

"But what? If you think an outcast isn't good for The Brotherhood, then maybe I should just step aside and let Ethan do the job."

"That's not what I meant and you know it." Dean could feel the conversation spiraling out of his control, taking a direction he did not plot.

"I don't know anything anymore, Deuce. Everything I thought I knew is coming apart. And now you suddenly aren't sure about things. Maybe you're not sure about me? Maybe you've realized exactly what it means for me to be Noah Seaver's great grandson?"

"You're twisting my words, Damien. You don't understand. This isn't about you."

"Then level with me, Deuce. Do you want to be The Guardian?"

Dean glanced to his brother. Sam looked away. Fucking Switzerland wasn't going to be any help. "It really doesn't matter what I want."

"It's your future, Dean. What you want is the only thing that matters."

Dean wished that were true-that he could toss a few pebbles in the pond, send forth a wish making everything right. Where was the mythical Lady of the Lake now? "Not when you don't have a future, man."

Caleb's brow furrowed. He stepped forward, mouth opening in protest, but Ethan skidded around the corner, interrupting him.

"Dean, Gideon found something he wants you to look at."

_RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

Caleb watched Dean turn and go before looking to Sam. "What the hell was he talking about?"

"It's a long story."

Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaled heavily. He was so sick of long stories, especially the kind with a really screwed up ending. "One you're not going to share. Right?"

"It's something he needs to do in his own time, in his own way."

Caleb brought one hand to his temple and winced. "I'm not going to like it. Am I?" He could feel the beginning of pressure behind his eyes, willed it to be just a sign his blood pressure was off the chart.

Sam hesitated. "Caleb…"

The older psychic knew Sam well enough to know he was keeping something from him, and whatever it was, Sam wasn't able to discuss it. "Never mind. Just forget it."

Sam stepped forward, a sympathetic look on his face. "Are you okay?"

"Headache." Caleb clenched his jaw. "Or not."

"Another vision? Do you want me to see if I can stop it?"

Caleb licked his lips, breathed in through his nose to control the pain. "No. Not unless it gets bad-as in stop breathing kind of bad. There has to be something important I'm missing."

"Or resisting?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the time with Dean and that serial killer…didn't Mac theorize you were blocking it out because you subconsciously didn't want to know Dean was being targeted?"

Caleb squinted against the building force in his skull. "Something like that. But I've had visions of Deuce being hurt before. It's kind of in the job requirement. If I know what's going to happen, I can stop it." He narrowed his gaze, pinned Sam with a hard look. "I want to know if something is going on with Dean. I have to know before I can help."

Sam rubbed his chin, glanced away. "Then, maybe it's not about Dean. Maybe it's about you."

"About me how?" He was tired of things being about him. Caleb was much more comfortable focusing on the people around him.

"Maybe your abilities are trying to tell you that _you're_ in danger. What about when those hunters jumped you in Texas? Did you have anything like this happen?"

Caleb brought his hand to his head. He vaguely remembered having a bitch of a headache during the hunt with Fisher. "Maybe…I don't know." Sam was trying to help, but the only thing Caleb wanted was for the damn vision to come, or not to come, and be done with it.

Lights flashed before Caleb's eyes, the cave wavered in and out. Suddenly Caleb was standing beside Dean, watching him trace his fingers over a symbol etched on the cavern wall.

"_The symbol of The Brotherhood." Dean turned to look at Gideon. "But I'm not picking up any sense of silver. Did you?" _

_Lane shook his head. "No. But it has to mean something. This passageway is a dead end. But they wouldn't have marked it without reason." _

"_Perhaps it was to throw intruders off the actual trail," Joshua postulated. _

"_We could double back and try one of the other paths," Ethan offered. "One-potato-two-potato isn't exactly a scientific method of elimination." _

"_I think you and Caleb were right in choosing this one." Gideon laid his hand flat against the symbol and sighed. "I just don't understand what the past Triad was trying to tell us." _

_Dean looked around them. They were at the end of the tunnel, no other openings or exits. "They just couldn't have left detailed instructions, could they?" _

"_I suppose they feared that their journals would someday be found, perhaps by the wrong people." _

_Dean looked at Joshua. "Imagine that." _

"_Maybe you should try the same thing you did out at the Sinks." Gideon removed his hand and looked at Dean. "Perhaps the silver is concealed in a different manner. Concentrate on an opening." _

_Dean shrugged. "Why not? I'm batting a hundred today." He placed his right hand over the symbol, closed his eyes. "Open Sesame." _

_Caleb felt the ground shift beneath his feet, what had once been firm footing now felt like thick mud. The dirt turned cool, oozed up around the lips of his boots, soaking his socks. He glanced at Dean to see if he felt it too, but the younger man still had his eyes closed, lips pursed in intense concentration. Then they were falling. _

Caleb jerked, emerging from the vision with a lung-expanding gasp. He was on his knees; Sam crouched in front of him. The younger psychic reached out to touch him. "Caleb? You back?"

"Shit." Caleb drew in a shaky breath. He blinked, tried to gain his bearings. "Dean…"

"What about Dean?" Sam helped him to stand. "What did you see?"

Caleb met Sam's gaze, then looked towards the passageway Dean had taken. "He's in trouble, Sam."

They ran into the room finding Dean's hand over the symbols.

"Why not? I'm batting a hundred today."

"Dean!"

"Deuce!"

Caleb met Dean's eyes when the other hunter turned at the sound of his and Sam's voices. Everything seemed to slow, as if time had been hit with a deep freeze ray, instantly snapping it to a crawl.

The law of inertia, Newton's principle suddenly became very important to Caleb, somewhere beside the pool table. A body at rest stays at rest unless acted upon by a force. Dean would never be able to move in time. Caleb slammed into him like a human cue ball, sending him flying towards the cave wall like a perfectly executed bank shot.

Caleb would have continued to move in a straight line if not for the force of the impact with Dean. The collision slowed his momentum, altered his course by seconds-long enough to leave him suspended in the position Dean once filled where the law of gravity intervened.

Where once there was solid footing, there was nothing. Caleb went into the void with Dean safely on firm ground.

_RcJSnsnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

"Caleb!" Sam yelled, diving towards the hole that had just swallowed the older hunter. There was a muffled shout followed by a loud splash from below.

"Careful!" Elijah grabbed Sam's belt, keeping him from tumbling through the opening. "This entire area could collapse."

"Get off!" Dean struggled out of Ethan's grip, "What the hell just happened? Where's Caleb?"

"The silver was beneath you," Gideon said, near the opening with Elijah and Sam.

Ethan pointed a finger at him. "You. Stay." He shot Dean a glare. "Both of you. The Guardian can't be risked."

Sam looked back at his brother, seeing the dread on his face. "Oh, God…" Dean circumvented Mathews and made it to Sam's side. "Damien?"

"Caleb!" Half of Sam's body was hanging over the opening as he strained to see into the blackness below. "Give me a flashlight."

Elijah turned to dig in his pack, retrieving one of the hand held lights, which he handed to Sam. "It sounded like he hit water."

Sam panned the light below them. "It goes straight down. I don't know how far the drop is."

Dean braced his hands on the ground around the opening. "Caleb!" He sat on his butt to ease himself over the side. "I'm going in."

"What? No!" Ethan grabbed his arm, effectively stopping his descent. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Winchester?"

Gideon edged forward. "He took your place; I don't think he would appreciate you taking that so lightly."

Dean glared at Lane. "Fuck you."

"Dean, listen to reason." Joshua stepped closer. "Caleb would not want you to do anything to jeopardize your life."

"Ethan, we need a rope." Gideon skirted the hole to stand by Elijah. "Time is working against us."

Sam intervened. "I can sense him."

"And?"

"He's unconscious."

"We'll get him, Dean." Sam looked up at Ethan. "Elijah said you brought small diving tanks."

"We did." Ethan nodded. "But Gideon's not going down there until I secure the situation."

"I know he's not." Sam stripped off his jacket. "I'm going with you."

"The hell you are!" Dean said. "I'm going. That's an order."

Sam shook his head. "No, Dean. Joshua's right. Caleb wouldn't want you risked. Me neither."

"So you think I'm going to sit on the sidelines."

"Sometimes that's the hardest thing to do." Gideon looked at Dean. "But the Guardian must think of the good of the many, not the needs of the one."

"Don't talk to me."

Sam sensed his brother was ready to jump, and latched onto Dean's arm. "If you get hurt, we're going to have to divide our attention between the two of you. You're not a hundred percent, and you know it. _I _can sense him, Dean. Now do you want to help us save Caleb or do you want to be a stubborn ass?"

"Goddamnit, Sam." Dean grabbed his brother's shirt. "He's not fucking dying on my watch. Do you understand me?"

Sam looked down at his hands and Dean released him. "I understand."

Gideon leaned near the hole, turned his ear towards the opening. "I don't hear any water. If that's what he hit, then it must be sedentary, like a pond."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, G?" Ethan tossed one end of the rope to Elijah, who tied it off to some large boulders.

Gideon nodded. "The underground lake."

"I don't give a fuck if it's Dozmary Pool, where Excalibur lies. Get your asses down there before I do it myself."

Ethan tossed Sam a strap-on tank and face mask. "You know how to use one of these?"

"I've been diving before."

"Good." Ethan took the other tank and mask from his brother. "We need to hurry."

"Take one of the water-proof lanterns," Gideon said. "Hopefully, there will be a bank or something. Leave it for us to follow you. The sooner we can triage him, the better."

Sam took hold of the rope and jerked it twice to test its hold. He turned on the flashlight clipped at his hip and met his brother's gaze. "We'll get him, Dean. I promise."

The descent was bumpy. It wasn't a clear fall as Sam had originally thought, more like a water-slide shoot without the slick surface. He eased himself down the natural tube, bracing his feet against the jagged rocks. He hoped Caleb had avoided the sharper ones.

Sam had gone about fifteen feet when he saw light. It wasn't a huge difference from the pitch black of the tight space he was navigating, but the change was enough to alert him of the upcoming opening. "Ethan."

"I'm here." Ethan was only a few feet above him. Sam could see the bottoms of his boots.

"I'm at the end of the shaft."

"What can you see?"

Sam panned the flashlight out into the gray void. "It's a lake." He played the light along the silver surface, hoping to catch sight of Caleb. He closed his eyes, still sensing the other psychic. The link was dull, not thrumming with energy. Sam held onto that as he opened his eyes.

He spotted a large outcropping of rock directly below him. Caleb's momentum coming out of the sluice must have shot him right over it, throwing him into the water. "Part of the cavern is free of water. I'm going to have to drop to that before going in."

Ethan removed the two lanterns from his side, turning them on and placing them on the ground beside them. "Fuck me." He whistled. "This is unbelievable." He brought his fingers to his lips, sent out a loud sharp whistle. One echoed to them in response. "Ready for a swim?" He pulled the diving mask on and motioned towards the water. "Lead the way. You're the one with the scent."

Sam waded in, ignoring the shock of the frigid waters. He closed his eyes to concentrate on Caleb. It took a heart-stopping moment to locate the silvery thread that connected him to the other psychic. But once he found it, Sam latched on. Taking a shallow breath of the cool oxygen, he dived under, letting his sixth sense take over.

RcJSnsnsnsnsnsNRcJ

Dean was the first one down after Ethan had signaled the all clear. Gideon insisted that Elijah or Joshua should go, but Dean was hearing none of it. As it was, he was feeling beyond guilty that he let himself be talked out of going in for Caleb first.

The lanterns Ethan left cast a shimmering glow on the lake due to the fairly low dome-like ceiling. It created a moonlight effect Dean had always loved at the pond. The lake was huge, shaped like a teardrop, the narrow end disappearing in a small cavern off to Dean's right. Light ripples played across the surface, and he strained to see any signs of Sam or Ethan beneath the misleading calm.

"You going in there is not going to help him," Joshua said, quietly. "It would only hamper their efforts."

Dean hadn't heard him come down, but he pulled his eyes from the water to meet Sawyer's blue gaze. "It should have been me."

"He obviously had a vision. Therefore, it wasn't meant to be you."

Dean didn't like Sawyer's damn logic. "How long has it been?"

Joshua looked at his watch. "Four minutes and forty-three seconds."

Dean returned his eyes to the water, ran a hand over his mouth. "Goddamnit."

"The temperature is cold." Gideon kneeled by the water. He dipped his hands in the lightly lapping waves again. "No more than forty-five degrees I'd say."

"The mountain run off must feed it," Elijah said. "It's part of the water from the Popo Agie."

Gideon stood. "That fact and the dive reflex will be our ally."

"What?" Dean frowned. "Why?"

"The body is smart. Drowning suffocation causes a lack of oxygen…"

Dean huffed, lifted his hand to halt Elijah's explanation. "I know what the dive reflex is, Professor." He turned to Lane. "So, you think he'll be okay?"

Gideon shifted out of his pack, started to remove instruments from his black bag. "The key is getting to the victim before they completely run out of oxygen. We can hope for a dry drowning."

"Drowning is drowning." Dean moved closer to the edge of the water. "He hates the fucking water." The idea of Caleb suffocating while he stood aimlessly by tore at him. He took off his jacket, tossed it aside.

"Dean…" Joshua said.

Dean ignored him, reaching down to remove his boots. He had to do something.

Ethan broke the surface first, followed quickly by Sam. Dean quickly stood, straining to see if his brother had Caleb.

"We got him," Ethan shouted.

"Sam?" Dean called out to his brother as he waded waist deep into the lake to help pull Caleb out. "Is he…"

Sam pulled his mouthpiece free, took a quick breath of fresh air. "I don't know."

Dean paled as Sam and Ethan reached him, towing Caleb's body horizontally between them. Caleb wasn't moving, his skin was tinged blue. He looked dead. "No," Dean breathed. "No…"

"We can revive him," Ethan said. "Help us. We need to keep him horizontal."

Dean put his hand behind Caleb's head, helped ease Caleb out of the pool. Joshua and Elijah joined them, aiding in quickly getting Caleb on shore where Gideon had spread a space blanket for him.

"Open his airway." Lane glanced at Dean. He turned to Elijah and nodded to Sam and Ethan. "Get them some blankets and dry shirts, Eli. All we need is to deal with three hypothermia victims."

Dean tilted his friend's head back. Caleb's skin felt like ice. He flashed back to the nightmare he'd had in Caleb's apartment, the dream where Caleb had died. He looked just like this before morphing into the image of Sam when Jake had taken his life. It was all a warning. Dean should have paid attention. He failed again, and this time he didn't have a life to offer up, no sacrifice with which to pay penance.

Ethan nudged Dean out of the way. "Move, Dean. So I can help him."

It took Sam's hand to get him moving, but Dean remained close enough to touch Caleb. He watched as Ethan and Gideon took up the task of methodically reviving his best friend. They worked expertly in tandem, switching off compressions and breaths so that neither tired.

Dean felt oddly removed from the situation. He remembered breathing for Sam, pumping his chest, swearing at him to wake up. Bobby had to drag him away, tell him it was over. There would be no miracle resuscitation. The knife wound was fatal.

But this was different. Caleb wasn't stabbed. There was only the faintest trace of blood along his hairline. Caleb couldn't do anything without a damn head wound. He felt an insane urge to laugh, choked back a sob instead. "It's taking too long."

Sam gripped his shoulder, but didn't speak. "How long?" He knew Sawyer in all his anal ineptitude would continue to keep time. "How long, Joshua?"

Sawyer sighed. "Almost eight minutes."

"What?" It couldn't have been that long. "Eight minutes since he went in?"

When Joshua didn't answer, Dean turned to glare at him. "Joshua?"

Sawyer swallowed, his Adam's apple conspicuously bobbing. "Eight minutes since they started resuscitation measures."

"Come on, Damien." Dean leaned as close as he could without hampering Ethan's mouth to mouth. "Don't do this. Not now. Not this way."

Time seemed both painfully slow and torturously quick. Caleb remained lost to them. "No,no,no…" Dean had taken up the mantra, rocking slightly back and forth. He was aware of Sam's hitched breath, his brother's shoulder touching his, their knees brushing up against one another as they both waited.

Then everything stopped.

Ethan looked up. Gideon shook his head. Joshua's voice was rough. "Ten minutes."

"I'm sorry," Gideon said. "It's not likely…"

"NO!" Dean looked at Caleb. Damien would fix this. He would keep the unthinkable from happening. His friend didn't move, didn't offer any comfort or protection. Nothing.

Dean turned furious eyes to Ethan. "You said you could revive him! He's just cold. Hypothermia. That's all." Dean shook his head. "It's not too late!"

"Dean…" Ethan lifted a hand. "He wouldn't want…"

"Don't tell me what he would want. You don't know him."

"Sam," Joshua said.

Dean turned to glare at him, knew exactly what Sawyer was trying to do, his unsubtle way of telling Dean's brother to deal with him.

"Sammy." Dean sought out his brother. Sam's water-filled eyes were locked on Caleb.

"Caleb?" Sam choked.

Dean grabbed his shoulder, gave him a hard shake. "It's not over, Sam. It's not over until I say it's over. Do you understand me?"

Sam finally looked at him, seeming unfazed by his strong words. "He's gone. I can't feel him, Dean." He blinked, tears spilling over his dark lashes. "Caleb's gone."

RcJ

A/N: A special thanks to Tidia for helping with this difficult chapter, and to Tara, who was very kind in her read through.


	8. Chapter 7

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Beta: Tidia --double duty! 2 fics in a week..in a day…

A/N: I know some of you have asked so below is a list of things we will 'NOT' be doing in The Brotherhood AU.

1.Sam will not be evil-nor will he be kick-ass, bad-ass Sam on a permanent basis. He will be smart, competent, 'I love my big brother', big-hearted, logical, SAM! This is how we plan to develop the character.

2. Ruby will not be riding in the Impala, helping Dean save Sam from himself, helping Sam save Dean, or sleeping in either Sam or Dean's bed. I don't care how much she tries to convince us of the fact she is on their side. She will not out-snark or rescue the boys in any way, shape or form. Tidia and I don't have to listen to Dawn O. or the CW and their archaic views on what women want in their women counterpart characters. If we use her, it will be minimally. Unless I decide to kill her in a bout of frustration. (Tidia notes: this is what I am hoping for)

3.Dean will not be listening to demons, making more deals with them, or sleeping with them (see number 2), nor will he or Sam sleep with any relic-hunting, con-artist with an accent.

4.We will continue to listen to reviews and try to incorporate as much as possible with the story lines we have mapped out (Tidia notes: It is quite lengthy). We will not strike unless Kripke writes Sam as evil, Dean as evil, puts Ruby in the Impala(and Dean's bed), puts Sam in Bela's bed, and puts the brothers at odds with one another.

**RCJ**

Caleb was cold and wet, unsure of his condition and his location. The hunter walked along a deserted highway, surrounded by dense forest. It was dark, the fog heavy, thick and slow-moving, similar to histhe hunter's thought processes. He rubbed his head. "Damn it. What the hell is going on?"

Caleb continued walking, moving forward, never thinking to look back. The highway had to lead somewhere, the promise of reaching an important destination dangled in front of him. He blinked, some of the fog cleared.

"You've got to be shitting me."

Looming in front of him, not more than twenty feet in the distance was a steel-arched metal and cement giant. Caleb's breath caught. "The New River Gorge."

Caleb would know it anywhere. He glanced around; his gait increased, carrying him closer to the bridge. "I'm in West Virginia."

"You're definitely not in Kansas, Junior."

Caleb stopped abruptly, whipping his head in the direction of the voice. Out of the fog wrapped trees stepped the impossible. "Johnny?"

John Winchester moved closer, hands jammed in his coat pockets, a rare grin on his rugged face. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Kiddo."

Caleb shook his head, a sharp pain bringing a hand to his chest. He sucked in a quick breath, blinked several times. John was still there. "It took dying for you to get a sense of humor?"

"Some things never change." John's smile grew, dimples revealing themselves. "Same old smart ass."

Caleb hesitated, taking in another hurtful breath. "Is it really you?"

John's smile faded. He removed his hands from his pockets, extended one in Caleb's direction. "It's me, Caleb."

Caleb's uncertainty vanished like fog struck by sunlight. He gripped John's hand and was roughly pulled into an embrace. "Damn, I missed you, you old sonofabitch."

John squeezed him hard. "I missed you too, Private."

Caleb laughed, reveling in the solid feel of his mentor, reluctant to let go for fear the man would disappear. "Damn, Johnny. I was your lackey for over twenty years. I think I've earned a promotion-at least to Sergeant."

"I reckon you have, Kiddo." He pulled back, but kept a firm grip on Caleb's shoulders. "Maybe even Corporal."

Caleb grinned. "I'll be expecting those stripes." He reached a hand out, touched John again. "I don't believe it. What are you doing here?"

"That's my question." John let him go. "What the hell are you thinking, Junior?"

"Me?" Caleb blinked at the more familiar tone, the frown of disappointment. "I'm not the one who went and got himself killed."

John looked away.

"Shit." Caleb ran a hand through his wet hair. "Did I?"

John nodded towards the bridge. "Take a walk with me."

Caleb resisted. He fought to focus his thoughts, to remember. He had been in the cavern, arguing with Dean… "But if I'm dead…what about the boys? Are they okay? I can't leave them unprotected."

"Walk." John shoved his hands into his jacket once more and started forward. "Promotion or not, I'm still in charge."

"Bossy in the afterlife, too." Caleb rubbed at his chest, but followed. "How's that working for you?"

John shot him a quick grin. "It's a good thing Jim was right about all that mercy and forgiveness shit."

"Jim? Have you seen him? And Mary, are you guys together now?"

"I'm here to talk about you, Caleb."

"You going to help me get back?"

John ignored Caleb's question, stepping onto the New River Gorge. "The first time I crossed this damn bridge, Dean informed me it was the longest and highest in the United States."

Caleb sighed. "Yeah."

"Ace talked the whole way across, yammering about this bridge and that."

"His way of dealing with the height thing."

"He never liked bridges, even as a kid." John ducked his head against the cold wind that had picked up, started walking once more. "Surprised the hell out of me when he came out of the next gas station carrying a black and white print of this monstrosity."

"This isn't an eyesore, John. The New River Gorge is an architectural wonder. It's beautiful."

"I told your daddy he should have made you take shop class in school. A well-cared for block engine is a thing of beauty, Kid."

They walked in silence for a moment, Caleb slightly awed by the weirdness of it all. He cleared his throat. "Dean sent me that print for my thirtieth birthday."

John stopped suddenly. They were nearly half way across. He glanced over the edge before bringing his gaze to Caleb. "I know. _Earth be Spanned- Deuce_."

"Dean showed it to you?"

"I stole a look while he was asleep."

Caleb shook his head. "You never did get the whole privacy thing."

"When you live out of a car, that's not an issue."

Caleb rested a hand on the side of the bridge, stared out over the edge, relieved the river below was obscured by the fog. "Best birthday present I ever got." He'd spent a small fortune having the five dollar print framed. It was one of the few material things Caleb cared about-top of a list that included a rusted out Jeep Wrangler and a faded playing card.

"You mean a lot to him, Caleb. You could always reach him when I couldn't."

Caleb winced, another sharp pain lancing through his chest. "What's this about, Johnny?"

"Unfinished business, I guess."

"Yours or mine?"

"This is about you. My time has come and gone."

"So you going to bitch at me for all the shit I've fucked up since you died?"

John looked at him. "No. That's not why I'm here." He stepped forward. "And you haven't messed up."

Caleb shifted under his mentor's intense scrutiny. There was an unrecognizable look on John's face. It was a cross between sympathy and remorse. "Then out with it. I need to get back."

"Do you want to go back?"

The question caught him off guard. "I…yeah, of course I want to go back." His momentary hesitation was a surprise. Did he want to go back? He had to go back.

"Things haven't been easy these days."

"You keeping an eye on us, Johnny?"

"Always."

"I don't know how to feel about that."

"My truck looks like shit by the way."

Caleb laughed. "Not a lot of time for detailing."

John nodded. "The boys have been keeping you busy."

"Fruit of your loins? It was inevitable."

"You've done right by them, Junior."

Caleb glanced away, another pain threatening to take his breath. "Maybe."

"You've always done right by them, backed them up- even standing against me when need be."

Caleb shrugged. "Got me knocked on my ass a few times if I recall."

John smiled. "I admit I was a bastard half the time."

"You were the best teacher, a great friend." Despite the bad times, Caleb loved John. Had he ever told him?

"And you were a great student. You're a natural hunter and Knight. A whole hell of lot better for the job than I ever was. You're the real thing, Kiddo."

Caleb found the surrounding darkness more enviable than John's gaze. The man could always see right through him. "I appreciate that, Johnny. But a lot of things have changed since you've been gone."

"Nothing changes family, Caleb."

Caleb gazed at his shoes. John knew about Noah Seaver. "Yeah. I understand that." It was the undeniable fact Caleb had been resisting his entire life. He couldn't change who or what he was.

"You're more Ames and Winchester than Seaver. Training you was one of the things I got right. Do you understand me?"

The unexpected words had his head whipping up to meet his mentor's gaze, but a reply escaped him. Caleb merely nodded, licked his lips.

"You know who you are. You're The Knight of The Brotherhood. Act like it."

A ghost of smile touched Caleb's lips and for a moment the tightness in his chest lessened. Breathing was easier. "Damn, John I knew you would find a way to order me around, even from the great beyond."

"Somebody has to."

Caleb tilted his head. "They miss you, you know. Sammy and Dean. Mac and Bobby. It's been hard."

"I miss them too." It was John's turn to break their gaze. "I didn't plan on leaving them so soon."

"You did what you had to."

"We all make choices-choose certain paths to follow. Even choices made with the best of intentions can have terrible consequences. Love blurs the boundaries of right and wrong."

"Now you sound like Pastor Jim."

John laughed softly. "I appreciated the old man's genius a little too late."

"I appreciate the fact that dying has giving you some kind of Zen-like experience, Johnny…but could you just tell me what it is I need to get from this whole freaky out of body experience. Lay it on the line, like the good old days."

John's gaze narrowed, his features growing grim. "Sammy is going to need you, Caleb."

"Sammy's never really needed me. He has Dean."

"He'll need you now. It's important you two learn to work together, rely on each other."

Caleb brought his hand to his chest as the throbbing threatened to double him over. "But Dean…"

"-has chosen his path."

Caleb resisted the pain, forced himself to stand straight. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means like father like son."

Caleb shook his head. "That doesn't make sense."

"It will."

"Are you trying to tell me Dean's in trouble?" Caleb shook his head, inhaled. "But you saved him. _I _saved him. Right, damn it?"

John's gaze moved past Caleb, searching the fog behind them as if he had spotted something or someone in the land-tethered clouds. "Sometimes it's not about saving the people we love, Caleb. It's more about knowing how to let them go."

"Fuck that." Caleb grabbed John's sleeve, forcing the man's gaze back to his. "I'm not letting go of anyone. Not without a fight."

John covered Caleb's hand with his own, their eyes met. "Sometimes surrender is the only option, Corporal."

He gazed past Caleb again. Caleb turned to follow the same line of sight. "Who the hell are you looking for?"

John didn't answer. Caleb turned to question his mentor once more.

John was gone.

"John!" Caleb stepped forward. The fog grew thicker. It was like breathing wet cement. "Johnny? Damn it!"

Caleb leaned on the side of the bridge, holding his chest, fighting for breath. He closed his eyes, willed himself to wake-up. "Anybody!" Caleb slipped to his knees. "Please."

_RcJSnsnsnsnsNRc_J

"Please don't do this!" Dean leaned over Caleb again, forcing another breath into his best friend's lungs. "Don't let go. Not yet. Please."

"Dean…" Sam said softly. His brother had shoved Ethan out of the way, continuing the CPR himself.

"Help me, goddamnit!" Dean looked up, glared at his brother. "Start compressions again. Now!"

Sam's chest clenched. The pain in Dean's eyes far too familiar to the stormy turmoil left in the wake of their father's death. He wanted to soften the blow, ease the suffering, but didn't know how. "It…it won't help."

Dean reached across Caleb's lifeless body, wrapped his fist in Sam's shirt and jerked him forward until they were almost nose to nose. "Yes it will! He's still here. _I_ can feel him, Sam. I. Still. Feel. Him."

Sam bit his lip, felt his eyes burn. The lump in his throat threatened to choke him. "But you're not…"

"Psychic?" Dean said. "I don't need to be a fucking psychic to know when I've lost someone."

Sam shook his head. He'd said the wrong thing, in the wrong way. Treading around Dean when he was scared or hurt was like a minefield. Any other emotion, Sam had mapped out long ago. But these were unfamiliar. Sam felt completely helpless. "I didn't mean…"

Dean cut him off with another shake. "Wait! You're a psychic." He let his brother go, ran a hand down his face. "Shit!"

"Dean?" Sam glanced to Joshua, before returning his gaze to Dean. He was afraid his brother might have slipped over some kind of invisible edge. Sam wasn't sure what he expected Joshua to do, but he was the most familiar person left in the room. "Are you alright?"

Sawyer stepped forward. "Dean, perhaps you should…"

"I should have fucking thought of it before. How could I be so stupid?"

"Dean, what are you talking about?"

Dean grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip. "You're psychic, Sam. Your _connection_. You can reach him. Bring him back."

"What?" Sam tried to pull away as Dean guided his hand to Caleb's chest. "Dean, this isn't a vision. He's not unconscious! He's…" The word caught in his throat.

"Don't you say it!" Dean maintained his hold. "He's not gone. I'd know if he were gone."

"You don't want him to be gone. Just like with…" Sam almost said 'with me' but remembered their audience. "You can't save everyone!"

"I know." Dean forcefully placed Sam's hand over Caleb's heart, keeping his on top of his brother's to prevent Sam from moving. "Only the people who matter." He tightened his fingers, entwining them with Sam's. "Please, Sammy."

Sam couldn't- wouldn't say no. If nothing else, he believed in his brother, loved him. He looked down at Caleb, his gaze traveling to his and Dean's entwined hands on the older hunter's chest. Dean's silver ring glinted in the lantern light, blurring out of focus as Sam's eyes filled. He raised his head, met his brother's gaze and nodded. "I'll try, big brother."

Dean's smile was tremulous. He tried to laugh, but to Sam's ears it sounded broken. "There is no 'try', Luke. Only do."

Sam closed his eyes, sent out a silent plea to the universe and went after Caleb.

_RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

It was like diving into the cold dark lake all over again. All sounds disappeared except the rush of his own blood, the beating of his heart. He concentrated on Caleb, frustrated when the familiar psychic link failed to answer him this time. Pressure built in his skull as he tried over and over again to connect to the other hunter-the telepathic equivalent of banging his head on a brick wall. Still, he couldn't quit.

His brother's eyes haunted him. Dean was so sure he felt Caleb. But was that only wishful thinking? Dean wasn't psychic. Despite the new mysterious Guardian gift, his heart was his true power. Like with most superheroes, it was his strength and his weakness.

Dean's heart was a deadly weapon, mostly to himself. But it saved those around him over and over again. Sam, on the other hand, trusted his head. His sharp mind was his favored tool, the added psychic ability a surprising bonus. However, it seemed useless now. He longed to feel whatever connection his brother had been so sure of. As if merely asking had opened a door, Sam caught a flicker.

It didn't resonate in the deep recesses of his mind as usual, but seemed to strum from the center of his body. The answer suddenly appeared like Caleb's lifeless body lying on the rocky bottom of the lake.

Dean used his emotions where Sam was ruled by thoughts. Maybe some things lay beyond the reaches of intellect; maybe Dean was feeling Caleb on another level entirely. Sam stopped thinking about Caleb, blocked out the image of his blue-tinged face and instead remembered his friend.

Barking erupted around him. Sam was startled from his trance, concentration broken. He sat up quickly, shocked to find the solid feel of grass and dirt beneath his hands. Gone was the cave, Dean and the others. He was in a forest, dark and foggy. "What the…"

Sam's lap was suddenly full, eighty pounds of wriggling Black Labrador attempting to bathe his face in adoration. "Scout?" He breathed, his hands locked on the side of the dog's face, his fingers wrapped in soft fur. It couldn't be.

Scout barked again, nuzzled her cold wet nose beneath his chin and nudged. Code for get up, let's go. Sam recognized the directive and despite the bizarre situation made his way to his feet. "Girl? What are you doing here?"

The dog's only reply was another yip. She stepped onto the deserted highway stretching parallel to them, casting one more glance at her boy before lopping into the fog.

"Scout! Wait." He was searching for Caleb and found his dead dog instead. He thought of other times when his mind had done incredible feats. Pastor Jim loved to remind him that miracles happened everyday, and sometimes people were open enough to see them. Sam needed a miracle. He took a deep breath and followed Scout's excited barking.

In moments he was in front of a large steel bridge. He recognized it through the dense hovering fog. A picture of the bridge hung in Caleb's New York apartment, one of the only things marking the home as his friend's.

He felt a warmth settle against his legs and looked down to find Scout leaning against him. Gone was the gray from her muzzle, her warm brown eyes as clear and golden as when she was a puppy. She whined, her entire body seeming to wag with the thumping of her tail. "Is Caleb here?"

Scout barked. Sam scanned the expanse of the bridge. "Caleb? Caleb! Are you there? " Sam ran forward, Scout on his heels as he heard a distinct whisper on the wind.

"Sammy?"

"Caleb?" Sam strained to see in the deep fog, but let his heart lead him to the middle of the bridge. There on the side was Caleb, kneeling on the ground.

"Sam?"

"Thank God." Sam smiled, putting his hand out to his friend to help him to stand. "I was so afraid I wouldn't find you."

"What are you doing here?" Caleb accepted the hand, but struggled to stand.

"I came to get you. Scout -" Sam turned in a circle. The Black Labrador was gone.

"Do you know where we are? Where's Dean? Is he with you?" Caleb shivered.

"I think we're in your mind." Sam gestured to their surroundings. "Psychic trip. Dean's not here."

"Not in West Virginia, huh?"

"Sorry." Sam shrugged, knowing they had to get out of Caleb's mind and back to the living and breathing.

The older hunter ran a hand through his hair. "Kind of like in Texas, when we were at Jim's in the library."

Sam nodded. Caleb seemed to be reviving.

"Am I in the hospital again? Because Deuce is so going to have 'Coma Boy' stitched in my jacket."

"Not exactly." Sam frowned. He decided he needed to encourage them to walk back to where Scout had found him.

"Worse?" Caleb pulled away, refusing to move.

"Yeah."

Caleb bent over, panting. "Maybe…maybe you should just let me go."

"No!" Sam squeezed Caleb's arm, refusing to release the other psychic. "Dean needs you. _We_ need you."

"Your Dad said that… But he also said I should learn to let go."

"Dad? He was here?" Sam looked around, wanting to see his father.

"He's gone." Caleb was rubbing his chest. "Sammy… what's going on with Dean?"

"This isn't about Dean, Caleb. It's about you."

"You and Johnny study the same script, Runt?"

Sam sighed, unable to follow Caleb fully because he hadn't shared the experience. "We…_I_ just want you to be okay. We'll figure out everything else when we have to."

Caleb stood up. "Cross that bridge when we come to it?"

Sam nodded. "Please Caleb. You have to trust me."

Caleb gripped Sam's other arm so they were facing each other, interlocked, much like Dean's hands were entwined with his over Caleb.

"I trust you, Sam."

Sam gasped, feeling as if he had once again fought his way to the surface of the lake, dragging his friend's dead weight with him. He drew in another breath of air, took in his surroundings. He was in the cavern again by the lake with his brother and Caleb.

"Sammy?" Sam recognized his brother's voice. "You with me?"

Sam opened his eyes, narrowing them at the harsh light so different than the dim fog of the bridge. He was in the same position, his hand entwined with his brother's on Caleb's chest. "Dean..." he started to explain until Caleb's chest suddenly heaved under their touch. The older hunter coughed, gagging as water was forced from his lungs.

"Damien!"

"Holy shit!" Ethan said.

"Get him on his side." Gideon ordered.

The brothers responded, Caleb was struggling to pull in another breath.

"Caleb?" Dean supported his friend's head as the older hunter continued to choke and expel more of the lake. "Come on, man."

Gideon shoved in beside Dean. Sam, still crouching backed away to give the professionals more room.

"Eli, grab one of the oxygen tanks." Gideon pointed to the rope still hanging from the hole above them. "Joshua, I need my bag, the portable I.V. We need to get some warm fluids in him."

Sam grabbed the back of Dean's jacket. "Dean, step away, let them help him."

Dean turned his head, looked again at Caleb before backing up again. "Josh-move it! Let's go"

Joshua moved towards the rope, but was stopped by Ethan. "I'll go. I packed the bags and there's some stuff we're going to need."

Dean looked to Sam. "Stay with him. I'm going to help."

Sam nodded, knowing his brother couldn't sit on the sidelines feeling helpless. "I'm not going anywhere."

The coughing and choking subsided and Gideon handed Sam the face mask. "Let's get this on him." Gideon glanced to Joshua. "Build a fire."

Sam carefully slid the mask over Caleb's head, worried when the older man didn't resist or put up a fight. "Shouldn't he be awake? Is that a bad sign?"

Gideon didn't answer him. Instead he ran his knuckles over Caleb's sternum, eliciting a flinch and low groan. "Talk to him."

Sam bent down, laying his hand on Caleb's face. "Caleb?" His skin was still like ice, the older hunter's lips tinged an unhealthy blue. "Can you hear me? It's Sam."

Caleb groaned again, his hand floundering towards the mask. Sam caught it and held on tightly. "Caleb? Come on, man. Open your eyes."

Ethan hollered out from above. "Incoming."

"Eli, grab the I.V. and help me." Gideon ordered and Elijah responded.

Sam focused on Caleb, continuing to talk to the older hunter, who was slowly coming around. Caleb's eyelids fluttered. "Sa…" He started coughing again, struggling to free himself of the mask.

"It's me. I'm here." Sam glanced to Gideon. The EMT was preparing the needle. "Just breathe. Take it easy."

"So cold…" Caleb said.

Sam ran a hand over Caleb's hair. "We're working on that."

"Hold his arm, Eli," Gideon said.

Sam moved to allow Elijah to take his place, and to fall into the background.

Elijah leaned over the injured hunter. Caleb gazed up at Elijah. Sam felt the surge of fear and adrenaline a moment too late. Caleb evaded Eli's hold. He scrambled away from the hovering men, pushing the oxygen mask away from his face. "No! Stay back."

"Caleb!" Sam tried to stop him, but Caleb made it to his knees.

Elijah moved closer, holding his hands out. "We're trying to help, Caleb. Just take it easy."

"Stay the hell away from me…Jarrett. I don't need your help."

Sam's chest clenched. "Caleb… that's not Jarrett."

"Sammy?" Caleb turned his head to the younger hunter. "You…okay? Did he hurt you?"

"Caleb, I'm Eli. Remember?"

"What did you do with Dean?" Caleb demanded. "Where is he, Jarrett?"

Elijah put his hands out. "Caleb, Dean's fine."

Caleb shook his head, his hand going to his chest. "Did you take him to Griffin? More… torture sessions?"

"What? No." Elijah looked at Sam. "What's he talking about?"

"He's out of his head." Gideon stood. "He doesn't know what he's saying."

Despite his near drowning, Caleb moved quickly. His fingers finding and latching onto the gun Dean had discarded when preparing to join Ethan and Sam in the lake. He brought it up with a shaky hand, pointing it directly at Elijah. "If you hurt him again… I will kill you."

"Reaves." Mathews took a step back. "It's Elijah! You're not thinking straight."

"Caleb! Put the gun down." Sam tried to keep his voice even, but his heart began to race.

"Dean!" Sam heard Joshua yell up to his brother. "Caleb needs you down here. Now!"

_RcJSnsnsnsNRcJ_

Dean and Ethan shared a look as Joshua's strained voice floated to them. "Go. I'll get the rest of the things," Ethan said.

Dean didn't need any urging. He feared the worse as he lowered himself down the hole to the lakeside once more. The sight that greeted him was unexpected; Caleb on his knees, holding a gun on Elijah. "What the…"

"He thinks we're in North Carolina-he thinks Elijah is Jarrett. The cold and the setting must have triggered a memory or something," Sam stated, not looking at his brother.

"Shit." Dean took a step towards Caleb. "Damien, snap out of it man. It's Dean."

"Deuce…" Caleb coughed, his eyes narrowing as he turned towards the other hunter. "You're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"But Griffin…"

"Isn't here, man. It's just us."

"Mathews…"

Dean shook his head. "That isn't Jarrett, Caleb. We're safe."

"What the hell is going on?" Ethan demanded. He had landed on the rocky slope near Dean.

Elijah risked a quick glance in his brother's direction. "It's a misunderstanding. Reaves is sick…hypothermia."

"I'm sick?" Caleb brought the gun back up to point at Elijah with a hoarse laugh. "You're the sick fuck, Mathews! I'm not… torturing a little kid. He's ten. Ten! You let your goons terrify him-hurt him. For what? Because Griffin said so?"

"What's he talking about?" Gideon demanded.

"He's crazy." Ethan retrieved his gun from its holster. "And he's pointing a gun at my brother."

Dean stepped in front of Ethan. "Don't even think about it! You'll have to go through me first." Dean could understand Ethan's concern for his brother, but he'd be damned if anyone was going to hurt Caleb.

"Ethan, just stay calm. Everyone calm down!" Elijah kept his hands up. "Caleb's not going to shoot me. Right, Caleb?"

"Why shouldn't I, Jarrett?" Caleb shook his head. "Your conscience suddenly caught up with you after the damage has been done? Dean is dying! You dragged us across the mountains in a snowstorm to freeze to death in this fucking cave!"

"Caleb," Dean licked his lips. He began to inch forward. "Dude, we're in Wyoming. Remember? You took a hell of a fall, swallowed a couple gallons of water."

Caleb blinked, turned his head to Dean. "Wyoming?"

"Yeah." Dean moved closer. "Your mind's playing tricks on you. That's all."

"No." Caleb shook his head, flitted his eyes between Elijah and Dean. "Griffin's playing tricks, Deuce. He's trying to get in my head."

"Sam?" Dean glanced at his brother. "Keep your mind to yourself." He didn't want his brother to try to reach Caleb while he was in this state. He had a feeling it would only add to the confusion.

"I know what you and Griffin are planning. Just kill me and get it over with. ..but let the boys go." The gun shook in Caleb's hand.

"Damien, we're fine," Dean tired again until he was interrupted by Elijah.

"I'm sorry, Caleb. You're right."

"What are you doing, Eli?" Ethan hissed.

But Dean understood what Elijah was attempting. He was embracing the past.

"Hurting Dean and Sam wasn't my intention."

Caleb laughed. "You were one of the ring leaders, Jarrett. You kidnapped them, you bastard. Admit it! I'm sick of all the lies."

Elijah cut his eyes to Dean, silently asking for some guidance.

Dean nodded, trying to provide some guidance. "You're right, Caleb. He should have never gone along with Porter's plan. Kidnapping us, plotting against Jim, against The Brotherhood, it was all a mistake." Dean was close to Caleb, could almost reach out to him. "But he gets that now. Remember? Jarrett's going to help us get away. He's going to fix it. You've just got to give him a chance. You said it yourself; he came through in the end."

"That's bullshit!" Ethan snapped.

"He's not lying," Elijah answered with no emotion.

Dean grimaced. Elijah's talent was that he was able to know if someone was lying. This was not the way the truth was supposed to be revealed, if ever.

"That can't be," Ethan uttered, "Eli?"

Elijah focused again on Caleb, his voice husky. "I won't let Griffin do anything to you."

Caleb faltered, lowering the gun slightly. "He's going to kill me. That's what he planned all along. Me…then Jim." He blinked, swaying slightly. "Just…don't let him hurt Dean anymore and Sammy. Promise you'll get them out."

Elijah nodded. "I promise I'll make it right. I'm on your side now, Caleb."

Caleb lowered his arm. Dean closed the distance between them, taking the gun in one fluid motion. "Easy, Damien. I've got you."

Caleb collapsed against Dean, allowing the other man to take most of his weight.

"You back with us?" Dean eased them to the ground. He gently cupped Caleb's chin, reinforcing eye contact. He felt Caleb shivering, blinking a few times before taking in a deep breath.

"I hate the fucking water, Deuce."

Dean laughed. "I know, Damien." He hugged Caleb to him , reveling in the rise and fall of his chest. He was reluctant to let go for fear Caleb would slip through his fingers like water in a sieve. "You're safe now."

"Dean?" Sam came up behind his brother, offering help with Caleb.

Dean nodded, the two of them lowering the other hunter to the ground.

"We need some help here." Dean looked back at the other hunters. Ethan and Gideon remained where they were, shell-shocked. Ethan was still holding his weapon in a defensive position.

"Did you hear him?" Elijah snapped. "He needs help." The professor strode over to Gideon, pushing him towards Dean, Sam and Caleb.

"None of that can be true," Ethan said softly.

Dean swallowed, realizing how right Jim had been to keep Jarrett's involvement a secret. To grow up believing your father was an honorable man provided a role model, an ideal to aspire to, but a father as a traitor only led to a life of penance.

"It is," Joshua spoke up before Dean could muster some words. "I heard it all from my father. He had a hand in it, too."

Dean's gaze shot to Joshua. "What?" He bristled with anger, which Caleb must have sensed since he gripped Dean's arm. He looked at his brother who shook his head. This wasn't the time to rehash the past. "At the moment, I don't give a fuck about your fathers. Get over here and help Caleb, or I'll see to it that you all lose your rings. I swear to God if it's the only thing I do as Guardian, I'll erase your families from The Brotherhood."

"He's too cold," Sam said.

"I'm freezing," Caleb countered, shivering to prove his point.

"Complications of the hypothermia," Gideon grabbed his bag and moved towards them.

"I saw Johnny, Deuce."

"Don't talk, dude. Take it easy." His heart squeezed at the mention of his father. He reminded himself that he couldn't go back, his father couldn't help him.

"He…he said you were leaving." Caleb shook his head. "You were in trouble..."

Dean licked his lips; he blotted the deal from his mind. "I'm here." Dean looked up at his brother. "I'm not going anywhere."

**RCJ**

This chapter is a little shorter than most, but let me tell you it was hard to write. Ask Tidia. It was hard to Beta. I'm not quite sure why. I was tying a lot of things together from past stories. Setting up things that you won't catch until much later in future stories, but it was also very intense for the characters. I hope it came off in the way I wanted it to. Thanks to Tidia, who cleared the muddy waters, and to Tara for giving her stamp of approval. Thank you for being patient. And I would love to hear your thoughts. -Rid


	9. Chapter 8

_November 30, 1840_

_One would think that their deaths would have brought them serenity; but it is not so. Their memory is dragged through the mud, sullying the good name of all that they stood for-all they fought for. I will not let their suffering be in vain. If it takes me to the last of my days I will have vengeance, my brothers' peace, and The Brotherhood justice_

_.-Excerpt from Samuel Colt's journal_

Dean felt the tug of sleep as he watched the dancing flames of the campfire in front of him. The cavern was quiet except for the light lapping of the lake, the even breaths of those around him. Dean's head bobbed; he forced his eyes open, denying himself the reprieve his weary mind and body needed. He tensed when he sensed the approach of another. His gaze unconsciously darted to Caleb and his brother sleeping only a few feet from his sentry.

"I'll take the next watch," Gideon said quietly.

Dean glanced up at the other hunter, willing his muscles to relax. He shook his head, dropping his hand from his gun. "I'm good."

"I don't get you, Winchester."

"Don't feel bad, Boy Scout. I'm an enigma."

Gideon folded his arms over his chest. "You're an ass."

Dean smirked. "That too."

The other hunter didn't wait for an invitation, taking a seat beside Dean. "You're not helping Caleb by denying yourself rest. We all need to be prepared for a long day tomorrow."

Dean cast another gaze towards Caleb. The hypothermia had presented a battle, magnified by injuries from the fall which included a blow to the head. "You think he'll be okay to travel?"

"I'll know better in the morning when he's more alert."

Dean forced his eyes from his friend to meet Gideon's gaze. "If I didn't say it before, Lane…thank you."

"I didn't do much."

"You helped save him. I owe you and Mathews for that." Dean had threatened them, but suspected his promise to erase them from The Brotherhood was nothing compared to the revelation about Jarrett Mathews.

"What exactly did Griffin do to you?"

Dean turned to look at him, not surprised at the straightforward question. "So, the long and sordid story is to be your payment?" They had avoided the subject in lieu of stabilizing the patient. "Wasn't Caleb's trip down memory lane enough for you?"

"Ramblings of someone sick and in pain. You wouldn't believe the things I've heard come out of people's mouths."

"Your personal polygraph told you it wasn't some delusional rant."

"Eli told us that Caleb 'believes' it to be true."

"It is true."

Gideon lifted a hand in conjecture. "What is true exactly? That Griffin and Jarrett kidnapped you and your brother? Reaves mentioned torture."

"Do you really want details? They're not pretty."

"Want has nothing to do with it. Neither does morbid curiosity. I need to know." Gideon glanced to where Ethan and Elijah were sleeping. "So I know what to tell them-how to tell them."

Dean tilted his head. "Now who's the enigma? You want to protect them."

Gideon pursed his lips. "We were told Griffin and Jarrett were working alongside Mackland and your father to help save you from men plotting against Pastor Jim. Griffin-Jim even- told us that Jarrett died a hero, saving your lives."

"In the end Jarrett did save us. I was out of it by then. But Caleb said he came through, tried to get Griffin to listen to reason. He died for the trouble."

"But he was in on it from the beginning?" Gideon asked.

Dean nodded. "He was there when they took me and Sammy. Jarrett was the one who questioned Caleb about Jim and the mysterious stockpile of weapons." The details had always been fuzzy, but Dean remembered some things well enough. "When Caleb didn't have the answers they wanted, Jarrett let some hired thugs work him over. When that didn't pan out, they added me to the equation."

"Jarrett Mathews tortured you? Griffin Porter hurt an innocent child?"

Dean imagined it sounded ludicrous to Gideon, Mac's earlier warnings about perceptions and loyalties ringing true. "Their henchmen did most of it for them, but it went down like Caleb said."

Gideon glanced away. "Was Griffin directly responsible for Jarrett's death?"

"You mean did he pull the trigger?"

"Yes."

Dean recognized the dread in the other hunter's eyes."No. One of the men he hired did the deed. Griffin wasn't behind it."

"You realize your story goes against everything I have ever known about Jarrett and Griffin."

"I'm sure it sucks to be you."

"Ethan modeled his life after his dad. Jarrett was a decorated officer of the law, an exemplary hunter. His memory is all he had left of the man. Caleb stripped all that away, left him with lies."

"This isn't something Caleb's done to your buddy." Dean clenched his fist, unwilling to let the truth be twisted yet again. "It was something done to him-to us. If you want to blame someone for Ethan and Elijah being hurt, how about looking to Griffin Porter."

"Griffin Porter is my godfather, close to my family."

"I didn't say it would be easy."

"I don't know who to believe or trust anymore."

"Yeah. Well, welcome to the fucking club." Dean gestured with his chin. "Two people you know have your back. That's a start."

"Is that what keeps you sane?"

"That and I drink and get laid a lot."

Gideon almost smiled. "That's more Ethan's thing than mine."

"So, the Boy Scout has no vices?"

Gideon looked toward the fire for a moment, then cut his eyes to Dean. "Fast cars."

Dean leaned forward. "Come again."

"I like fast cars. Ethan and I have a dragster. We play around at the track in our spare time."

"So you're an adrenaline junkie?" Dean laughed. "That explains the jumping out of planes. I just thought you were crazy."

"And I thought you were a smart-ass punk with a chip on your shoulder. I guess we were both wrong."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe."

Gideon drew his legs up, leaning his folded arms on his jean-clad knees. "You blame yourself for Caleb getting hurt, don't you?"

Dean raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in conversation, but remained silent.

"Why?" Gideon asked. "It makes no sense."

Dean frowned. "You saw the whole thing go down."

"Yes, I was there. I saw The Knight doing his job of protecting The Guardian. If he had died it would have been an honorable death."

Dean shook his head. "Did you miss the part where he'd be dead? Gone! Out of here. There's nothing honorable about that."

"I'm not sure he would feel the same."

"Caleb's head is full of noble obligations and heroic intentions. This isn't the first time he's fallen on his sword in the name of King Arthur." He narrowed his gaze. "How the hell would you feel if it was Ethan?"

"I would have been proud of his sacrifice."

"Proud? I thought he was your best friend?"

"He is. I love him like a brother."

"No, you don't or you would never think his life could be forfeit." Dean would never want Sam or Caleb to die for him.

"I would do everything I could to protect Ethan, but if he died serving a greater cause, then his death wouldn't be in vain. I would only dishonor his memory by blaming myself, or worse- being angry at him."

Dean groaned. "Let me guess. You're talking about the good of the many over the good of the one stuff again? Do you really believe your life is more valuable than Ethan's because of your position on the team?"

"I have a duty to fulfill. A Guardian must survive to fight another day-to lead his men."

"A Guardian must be willing to die for his men-to sacrifice," Dean said.

Gideon's face reddened. "Griffin taught us…"

"Dude, Griffin is few fries short of a Happy Meal. Did we not just discuss that?"

"I'm not saying what he did was right…"

"That's good because I'd hate to think Jim was completely wrong about you."

Gideon sighed, his shoulders slumping. "No matter what, I do believe that Griffin fights for The Brotherhood, Dean."

"Griffin fights for his own cause, Dude. I'm not sure The Brotherhood is it."

"I find it interesting that Jim considered two people so opposite in their beliefs for the same position."

Dean grinned. "The pastor had a hell of a sense of humor."

"I suppose," Gideon said. He slowly made it to standing, jutted his chin towards Caleb. "Keep him warm and get some sleep."

"More doctor's orders?"

"Yes."

"Gideon?"

The other hunter hesitated. "Yes?"

"About Jarrett…I'm sorry you found out the way you did."

"I'm sorry for Ethan and Eli."

Dean nodded. "Then maybe we're not so different after all."

RcJSnsnsnsNRcJ

Caleb tried to roll over, escape the heat that was smothering him, but was unable to move very far. His body responded sluggishly to the panic which seized his heart as he realized his restrained condition.

The great struggle that ensued ended in him barely managing to turn his head and open his bleary eyes. Caleb felt like he'd been hit with a tranquilizer meant for a man twice his size as he once again unsuccessfully tried to lift an arm. It was embarrassing.

He blinked; proud he could at least manage that feat and was able to focus on a sleeping bag beside him, a familiar dark blond head peeking out at the top. Dean was asleep on his stomach, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting close to Caleb. Caleb frowned, looking down. He was mummified in a sleeping bag of his own. That explained the confinement, but not the pounding behind his eyes or the raw burning in his throat.

He wrestled with the blanket, grimacing when the movement sent a sharp stabbing pain through his chest. He bit his lip to keep from crying out; winced when an echo-like sensation thundered through his skull. "Ow."

"Caleb!" Sam's sleep-tousled head popped up from beside him, his concerned face looming inches from Caleb's.

Caleb pressed against the ground, willing the other psychic to back off both physically and telepathically. "Sammy?"

"You okay?"

Caleb cleared his throat, his voice sounding scratchy and pathetic. "That depends…"

Sam propped up on one elbow, peering even more intently into his eyes. "On?"

"On why I'm the melty middle of a Winchester sandwich?"

Sam grinned. "What? Don't you remember Dad's lecture about spooning for body heat?"

"Spooning?" Caleb blinked. "There was spooning?"

"That was after the mouth to mouth," Dean said.

Caleb turned to find Dean now awake, an amused gleam in his best friend's green eyes. "Mouth to mouth?" he croaked. "You didn't."

"It was a sacrifice, I know." Dean pushed himself up to his knees, yawning. "Especially since I know the places your mouth has been, Damien."

"Ethan and Gideon helped," Sam said, contributing to the levity. "They did most of the work."

"You're not making it better, Runt." Caleb groaned, fighting one hand free of the sleeping bag to bring to his chest, shaking what looked liked mud from his hand. "Deuce, maybe you should think about letting women in The Brotherhood."

"Could have been worse - we could have let Josh have a go at you. That's his warm-up goo on your hands."

"You know I'd rather have died first."

Dean laughed, reached out a hand and rested it against Caleb's forehead. "At least you're not doing your shitty imitation of Han Solo after the carbon freeze anymore. How you feeling?"

Caleb closed his eyes. "You mean aside from defiled and slightly violated?"

"Yeah, besides that."

"Like I swallowed a whole lake full of ice water and an elephant stepped on my head before jumping up and down on my chest."

"That about sums it up. Thanks for the gray hair by the way."

Caleb looked up at him. "You're welcome." He glanced at Sam. "You guys okay?"

"We're fine."

He struggled to sit up and Dean reached out to help him. "Take it slow. Gideon thought you might have some cracked ribs."

"That feels about right." Caleb rubbed at his chest, paling slightly. "What the hell happened?"

Dean and Sam shared a look. "What do you remember?"

"Not a whole hell of a lot. I remember pushing you out of the way, falling…then everything went black."

"We're going to have to talk about that shoving problem you have, Damien."

"I take it things didn't go well from there."

"No, but on a positive note- you found the hidden lake." Dean gestured to the body of water behind them.

"Kudos for me."

"Then you drowned in it," Sam said.

"Fate loves to make me her bitch."

Dean squeezed his shoulder. "You make it easy."

"That explains our new intimacy level." He met Dean's gaze, "How long was I out?"

"Long enough. You scared the hell out of us."

Caleb opened his mouth to offer some reassurance, but Gideon interrupted him. "It's good to see you awake."

"Sounds like I owe that to you and Ethan."

"Thank the Winchesters. We gave you up for dead." He kneeled in front of Caleb, reaching out to prod at the gash near the psychic's temple. "How's your head?"

Caleb winced. "It's definitely still attached."

Gideon's touch moved to the hunter's side, his fingers carefully palpitating from rib to sternum and back again. "And your chest?"

Caleb gritted his teeth, willing himself not flinch. "I think the compressions might have been a little heavy-handed."

Gideon shared a look with Dean. "There could be some fractures. Traveling will be painful."

"I'm not staying behind, if that's what you're thinking."

Dean turned to him. "Of course not, because that would make complete and total sense."

"If I don't go, no one goes."

"I could offer you some pain meds…"

Caleb shook his head. "No. I need to be sharp. Drugs and my abilities don't mix." He wasn't sure if he would get a heads up on Ian and his gang, but he needed to be alert to sense if Dean was in danger. For that alone, he couldn't risk going 'off-line'.

"I assumed that would be the case. Elijah could help. He can block the pain receptors…"

"Like Griffin's trick?" Dean asked.

"Griffin taught him, yes."

"No." Caleb felt vulnerable in the current situation as it was. He didn't need anyone else in his head. "I can manage."

"If you change your mind…"

"I won't."

"Then I've asked Joshua to make you some tea. It will take the edge off."

"That I can live with." Caleb rubbed his ribs. "Where are the others?"

"Ethan and Eli went to check out the new trail we discovered at the mouth of the lake."

Caleb's frown increased. "They shouldn't have gone alone. Ian and his pals could be close by."

"We assumed they would be behind us, not lying in wait," Gideon said.

"That's only if there's not another way into this place," Dean said. "It's best not to assume anything where Meg is concerned."

"One of the tunnels we didn't choose could have also been a viable way in here," Sam agreed. "Without the dramatic entrance."

Dean nodded. "The Rise shouldn't be ruled out either. If the water ends up there, it has to have a way to get out."

"But Ian would have needed the Guardian," Gideon said.

"Only to get into wherever the weapons are," Caleb countered. "I don't think we've made it there yet. And Dean's right. We can't discount Rose."

Gideon looked towards the water behind them. "This lake feeds into a stream that snakes along parallel to the trail. It might take us where we need to be."

"Then we should be ready when Ethan and Eli get back from their walk."

"It shouldn't be long. I imagine they needed some time to discuss your revelation."

Caleb's brows drew together. "Revelation?"

"No permanent damage?" Joshua suddenly appeared, holding a steaming Styrofoam cup, which he presented to Caleb. "Beat the odds once again, I see."

Caleb took the cup with a shaky hand and a smirk. "Sorry to disappoint." He turned his gaze back to Gideon. "What were you saying?"

Gideon looked at Dean. "I thought you might have explained…"

"We were getting to that."

Joshua raised an amused brow. "You didn't inform him of his impromptu floor show? The spectacular climax to this already surprising trip."

"Shut up, Josh," Dean said.

Caleb glanced at Joshua. "My drowning was entertainment for you?"

"The drowning was more of an opening act. The show stopper was you pointing a gun at Elijah and revealing his father's squalid past in a very dramatic reenactment."

Caleb nearly spilled the drink. "What?"

"Nice, Josh," Dean said.

"What? It's not as if we have need for more secrecy."

Gideon stood. "I'm going to make sure our gear is packed and ready for when Ethan and Eli return." He nodded to Caleb. "Drink the tea. Joshua tells me it also has antibiotic properties."

Caleb watched him make his escape, his gaze moving to Dean. "I guess it's too late to ask for something to help me from running off at the mouth."

"It wasn't your fault," Sam said. "You were hypothermic…out of your mind."

"Again, you're not making me feel any better, Runt."

"You told them about Porter and Mathews." Dean held up a hand to cut off Caleb's reply. "You thought Elijah was Jarrett, some kind of freaky flashback to North Carolina. It's not that big of a deal, man. Everyone's fine."

"Except that Ethan and Eli have to deal with the fact they've been lied to most of their adult lives. Their father is now cast in an entirely different light."

"We didn't mislead them." Dean stood, narrowing his gaze. "Lying doesn't come as easy for us as it does some people."

"I assume you mean me." Joshua's arms were crossed.

"Sharp as ever, Josh."

"However distasteful Harland's acts may have been, he is still my father."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Caleb glanced to Sam, raising a brow. "Something else I've blocked?"

Sam shook his head. "It's not important. All that matters is you're okay."

"How'd they take it?"

Joshua was the one to answer. "As about as well as you can imagine."

"So much for Mac's gag order,"Caleb said.

"He'll understand." Dean kept his eyes on Joshua. "It wasn't like you intentionally betrayed a trust."

"On that note…" Joshua waved a hand towards his gear. "I think I'll ready myself for the rest of this titillating journey."

"For once, I agree with Josh." Caleb wrapped a hand around his ribs, and drank the tea in one gulp, hoping it would be fast acting. He needed to get back in the game and figure out what the hell he had lost and exactly what else he'd missed.

_RcJ__SnsnsnsN__RcJ_

Sam nearly lost his footing, sliding on the loose rocks as he cast a quick glance over his shoulder to where Caleb and Dean were pulling up the rear of their little convoy. Going on like nothing had happened to him wasn't working out for Caleb. The older psychic's misery was invading his senses, despite the shields Sam attempted.

"It doesn't look as if he's doing too well."

The youngest Winchester glanced up; surprised Elijah was now alongside him, having dropped back from Ethan and Gideon's side. Joshua was up ahead, taking point. Both Mathews had been quiet upon their return, providing only the necessary information from their scouting. "He's stubborn," Sam said.

"I could help, if he'd allow it."

"You'd be willing to do that?"

"It's not like you used our father's misdeed against us. If anything, I'd say I owe you a debt."

"Still." Sam shrugged. "It can't be easy."

"I guess we can take comfort in the fact he tried to make amends in the end."

Sam motioned to the two men in front of them. "Does Ethan feel that way?"

"Ethan will find a way to deal with it in his own time." Elijah's mouth lifted slightly. "He's stubborn."

"Knightly trait I guess."

"Strong possibility."

"Well, there's stubbornness and then there's stupidity." Sam stopped abruptly, rubbing his head. "I think it's time Caleb accepted the difference."

"What's wrong?" Dean asked as Sam and Elijah met them along the trail.

Caleb stopped beside Dean, leaning over his arm held protectively across his ribs. "Trouble?" he said.

"You tell me." Sam touched his own head. "You're not making it easy to concentrate."

"Sorry for the inconvenience." Caleb glared at him. "Try some privacy. That might help."

"I'm not reading you on purpose. I can't close off from you completely." He didn't have the same control over his abilities as Caleb. He was unable to filter, which was why he didn't use them, and he could only lightly read thoughts, not probe them or project. However, Caleb was broadcasting his pain loudly.

"Can you help with this?" Dean asked Elijah.

"I can," Elijah replied.

"Deuce…"

Sam saw his brother grab Caleb's arm as if restraining him. Shut up and let him work his mojo."

Caleb tried to back away. "You don't have to do this."

"It's no trouble. I know you may not remember, but I meant what I said last night. I am on your side."

Sam gave an approving nod. Elijah had kept his cool under the worse of circumstances.

Caleb sighed. "What do I need to do?"

"You'll have to trust me." Elijah removed his backpack, placing it on the ground by his feet. "I don't have the skill to maneuver around your blocks. You'll have to give me access."

Sam didn't miss the look Caleb shot his brother. It held a hint of desperation, fear and it was so foreign that Sam almost regretted pushing the idea. Dean must have felt the same unease.

"I like you, Eli," Dean said. "Don't make me regret it."

Sam was grateful Dean hadn't promised a quick death if Elijah misused Caleb's confidence, at least not in so many words. "I'll be there, too." Sam caught Caleb's gaze. "Just in case."

Elijah didn't seem offended. "It's not a complicated process. I can't read thoughts or project beyond simple procedures." He lifted a hand. "I have to have physical contact."

Caleb huffed. "And here I thought I could spare getting up close and personal with everyone on this trip."

"I promise not to take advantage."

"I appreciate that."

Elijah laid his hand on Caleb's head, closed his eyes. In moments, Sam could sense the difference, Caleb's pain no longer thrumming through their connection. Instead a wash of incredible relief flooded through, and Sam wondered if Elijah could teach him the technique. It would come in handy.

"Thanks," Caleb breathed.

Elijah withdrew his touch. "You're welcome. But remember, it's not a cure, more like a psychic shot of Novocain."

"In other words, Damien, don't push it," Dean said.

"Pain is our body's warning system. It shouldn't be ignored." Elijah glanced over his shoulder. "At least that's what Gideon says."

"Fuck that," Caleb said. "I'm all for denial."

Elijah nodded his approval. "Sometimes the situation calls for it."

Caleb twisted the silver ring on his finger. "Elijah, about your dad…"

Sam wondered if it was the appropriate time for this conversation, if there would ever be the right time. It was the same situation with Dean's deal. The lesson was that secrets eventually came out in the least expected ways, better to divulge them when there was some control.

"Yeah?"

"For what it's worth, I really do think he believed in Griffin. He thought he was doing the right thing at the time-maybe the only thing he could do."

"Sometimes the people we're closest to disappoint us," Elijah said.

Sam watched his brother fidget, Elijah's sentiment obviously striking a chord. Dean held himself to an impossibly high standard while maintaining the incredible ability to ignore the misgivings of those around him.

Elijah picked up the pack he had discarded. "That's when we love them enough to forgive them for being human."

"What's the hold up?" Ethan's deep voice rang out in the narrow passageway.

Elijah shouldered his bag. "Duty calls."

"Come on, let's catch up," Sam said to Caleb, sensing Dean needed some space. Elijah had spoken true words. Sam knew Caleb would forgive Dean, but it would come at a high price.

"Maybe we should catch up with Josh." Caleb smirked. "At least he won't touch me or ask me how I'm feeling."

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"Guess that leaves me and you, Professor." Dean gestured for Elijah to lead the way. "How do you feel about baseball?"

Elijah picked up the path, but gave Dean a wary glance. "That's a loaded question."

"Really?" Dean frowned. "It's not like I asked if you preferred brunettes or blondes."

"I think that would have been safer territory. I'm not actually a sports enthusiast. It's been cause for torment in the past."

"You hate apple pie, too?"

"No." Elijah smiled. "I loved Pastor Jim's apple pie."

"Who doesn't." Dean felt a twinge at the thoughts of sharing the same memory with almost a complete stranger. "His fried chicken did it for me. What the man could do with meatloaf was pretty damn amazing too."

"I'm a vegetarian."

"Damn." Dean shook his head. "That blows the next topic- my quest for the world's perfect cheeseburger."

"Red heads," Elijah said.

Dean grinned, recognizing the offering of common ground. "Now you're talking."

How their promising conversation veered from women to Elijah's dissertation Dean would never know. One minute they were discussing Carmen Electra and the next the cultural impact of close knit, secret societal structures erected for defense and protection of the mass population at large.

Dean felt as if Charlie Brown's muffled teacher was in his head as Elijah pontificated and conjectured away the next ten minutes. All those times of pretending to be interested when Sam prattled on about something had finally come in handy.

"You hear that?" Dean asked, thankful for a reason to interrupt the academic.

Elijah stopped mid-sentence, cocking his head to one side. "Water. I hear rushing water."

"Sounds almost like a waterfall."

"Hey guys!" Sam appeared breathlessly from around the bend in front of them. "You're never going to believe what we found."

Gideon joined him, looking more animated than Dean expected from the solemn man. "This could definitely be what we're looking for."

"You could be right." Elijah's attention was drawn to a wall off to their right. "It's the symbol."

Dean followed the professor's line of sight and watched him take off in the direction of the glyphs, panning his flashlight along the stone. Something besides the familiar circular symbol of The Brotherhood caught Dean's attention. He aimed his flashlight. The circles reflected the light like sunlight on water. All of the other symbols had been dull, as if done in charcoal or granite, these were different.

"It's fresh." Elijah called, holding up his hand towards Dean.

Dean watched Elijah bring his fingers to his nose. "It smells like blood-" He looked up at Dean. "-but that doesn't make sense."

Of course it did. It made perfect sense. "Elijah! Move!" Dean shouted as he ran. He wrapped his hands in the other hunter's jacket, spinning him, propelling them both away from the wall.

"Dean!"

Dean heard his brother's voice, echoed by Gideon calling out to Elijah. "Get down!" Dean yelled, stumbling through the gurgling stream, shoving Elijah towards a large crevice in the cavern-hoping it would be enough to shield them both.

The explosion was deafening in the small area, the world rocking beneath their feet. The wave of heat hit Dean from behind like a runaway car. His momentum pushed Elijah farther into the crevice. Dean felt the rough jutting rocks tear at his arms as he was shoved deeper into the granite, the bullet-like debris pummeling him. He held his breath, ignored the pain and waited for the ceiling to cave in on them.

Then as suddenly as it had begun, the roar died, the shaking ceased. Dean was aware of Elijah's harsh breathing, then his own as silence fell over the cavern.

"Dean!"

He heard his brother call out to him. Ethan must have closed in, calling out, "What the fuck happened?" and then, "Oh God, were they in there? Elijah!"

Finally Caleb added, "Deuce!"

"Are we alive?" Elijah asked softly.

Dean snorted. "Either that or everybody ended up in hell with us."

"You saved my life."

The words sounded distant, muffled. Dean wasn't sure if was due to the ringing in his ears or the throbbing pain at the base of his skull. "You hadn't finished your lecture yet, Professor. I was on the edge of my seat."

Elijah laughed, despite the situation. "You've cinched a place in the dedication of my dissertation, believe me."

"Dean?!"

Deuce, can you hear me?"

Dean stumbled out of the fissure that had saved their lives. He lifted his hand to the back of his head, feeling the warm wetness saturating his hair. "Stop yelling!"

"Thank God!" Sam said.

"Eli?" Ethan splashed into the water alongside Caleb and Sam. "Is he okay?"

"I'm fine." Elijah crawled out of the gap, dusting pebbles and dirt from his jacket. "Thanks to Dean."

"He pushed him out of the way," Gideon said. Dean noticed Jim's other choice sounded confused or maybe it was awe. It didn't matter; Dean only hoped Gideon still had some aspirin in his med kit.

RcJSnsnsnsNRcJ

"What the hell were you thinking?" Caleb demanded, frisking Dean for injuries. He couldn't believe he had let this happen, as a Knight he was already shirking his duties.

"That we needed to move." Dean hissed. "Easy with the merchandise, Dude!"

"It's amazing that explosion didn't bring down half the mountain on us." Joshua gestured towards the pile of rocks and dirt that had once been a wall. It had collapsed across the stream, covering the trail.

"Part of the tunnel's collapsed," Gideon said.

Ethan reached Elijah, helped him over the stream. "Are you sure you're okay, Eli?"

"I'm fine. Really."

"Watch him," Caleb said, carefully delivering Dean's care to the youngest Winchester, checking to see the rest of them were whole.

"I'm good," Dean growled, but didn't refuse Sam's help across the stream or his assistance in sitting.

Caleb jutted his chin for Joshua to follow him towards the rubble.

"Shouldn't we proceed with caution?"

"I think we're safe for now." Caleb knelt beside the rocks, fingering the remains of a metal wire and casing. "This was controlled and precise."

"This? Exactly what is this?" Joshua asked.

"Demolitions." Caleb surveyed the damage. "The same kind used on construction sites- a small blast can do a day's work in seconds."

"Death by dynamite. How quaint."

Caleb flicked his gaze to where Dean and Elijah were recovering. "I don't think death was the direct objective, although I'm sure taking a few of us out would have been a bonus."

"No vision?" Joshua inquired. "Could it be because I was on point?"

"You accusing me of playing favorites, Josh?" Caleb stood, shoved his gun back in his jeans. "Hand picking my premonitions?" Caleb wondered where Joshua got the audacity to question him.

"You wouldn't necessarily have had a premonition," Elijah said.

"What?" Caleb turned to look at the professor. "How do you know?"

Elijah motioned towards his own head, a sheepish look on his dirt-streaked face. "Psychic Novacain…remember?"

"It numbs my abilities?!"

"To some degree. I thought you knew that."

"Great." Caleb stood, tossing the wire aside. "You both could have been killed because I was being a major wuss." Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to work up some pain in his body to overcome the temporary deadening of his psychic abilities. He relied on them to give them all an advantage- to protect Dean and Sam.

"Sorry."

"If not death, then what was the intention of this controlled and precise demolition?" Joshua asked.

"They sealed us off," Dean said. He lifted his head to meet Caleb's knowing gaze. "We're blocked in. No way out."

"A boxed canyon move?" Caleb sighed at the tactical maneuver. "Fucking Ian."

"We have no choice but to go forward," Gideon said.

"Do I need to remind you that this trail dead ends?" Caleb asked. He made his way to Dean and Sam. "Then there's the freaky big-ass waterfall to contend with." When the were out of the mountain Caleb wanted some time in the desert, away from water.

"Waterfall?" Elijah said. He gestured to the stream. "How is there a waterfall ahead of us if the water is flowing towards it?"

Caleb didn't miss the way the professor instantly perked up, neither had Dean. Evidently, they had bonded during their moment of peril. Dean glanced to Ethan. "The choice of problems we have and _that's_ the big mystery he focuses on?"

Ethan grinned. "He's always had screwed up priorities."

"The water feeding the falls looks to be coming from an opening in the ceiling of the cave we found up ahead," Sam said. "Apparently this mountain is a labyrinth of twists and turns."

"Ironic how it mimics this hunt," Joshua said.

"So where the hell are Ian and his buddies?" Caleb asked, lifting Sam's hand to get a look at the gash on the back of Dean's head. It was a good size cut, still bleeding as head wounds did-it had been preventable. Caleb tried to test the perimeters of his ability, but got no vibration. "The cavern was empty, but they obviously wanted us here. Now what?"

"Now we surround you like sitting ducks." Ian appeared from around the bend, Fisher by his side. Both held guns at the ready, as a striking red-haired woman slinked from behind them. The redhead was the new Meg, reinvented as Rose.

She gave an enigmatic grin. "Nothing like getting caught with your pants down, huh boys?"

Caleb dropped his hand as Dean stood; both Caleb and Ethan went for their weapons. Ian fired without hesitation, and Sam staggered back with a yelp.

"Sam!" Dean turned to his brother, whose left leg had crumpled beneath him. He caught Sam before he hit the hard ground, taking them both to the floor. Caleb glanced over his shoulder at the Winchester brothers.

"Ian!" Meg hissed.

Ian laughed. "Relax, Rosie. You said I couldn't _kill_ your little boy king. I barely knicked him."

"You sonofabitch!" Caleb brought his gun up, trying to get some revenge for Sam's injury, Dean's being hurt. He sighted Ian's forehead, but the weapon was wrenched from his hands by an invisible force.

"Not so quick, Nephew," Rose said. "I can't let your misguided loyalty ruin the fun just yet."

With a wave of her hand, Ethan's gun was wrought from his grasp and she clucked her tongue at Gideon and Joshua. "I don't need the Ken doll twins, Lovelies. If you want them to keep breathing I suggest no one plays the hero."

"I could always take them out now," Ian said. "Less headache later."

"Don't yank at your leash, Ian. It's unbecoming."

Caleb's frustration grew. They were being toyed with, he thought about the ankle holster and its accessibility until Dean turned, his hand still on Sam's wounded leg as he glared at the demon. "What the hell do you want, bitch?"

Rose grinned. "So funny you should ask, Dean."

RCJ

A/N: Super thanks to Tidia, who made this part so much better with keeping me in POV and adding some touches of her own. She also did a rush job so I could post this before leaving town for work. She rocks as the best beta around. Thanks also to all of you who have reviewed and sent kind comments and interesting questions. I am so thrilled to open reviews. It really is a reward . I'd say there are two more chapters left in this story. Which I hope to post quickly, considering we would like for Tidia's new multi-chapter fic to begin mid March at the latest. Never fear, we will deal with the news of the 'deal', the reason Caleb calls Dean 'Deuce', and the introduction of our newest pal, Boo all in this story. Not to mention, you'll be meeting a relative of Joshua's that you haven't seen before. Okay, so maybe two chapters and an epilogue. gr . -Rid


	10. Chapter 9

To The Victor

Chapter 9

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I missed my two week dead-line by a few days. Thanks to Tidia, I am posting this before my 'Girl's Weekend'. Tidia will be there so maybe she can prod me into writing faster on the last chapter of Victor. I know I've been amiss in answering questions in reviews. It's been a very busy few weeks. The New Mexico story I've mentioned forever as well as the one where Caleb goes to Stanford are all intermixed in Edge of Winter. And yes, there is mega-Dean hurt. gr . I know some of you have missed that. Okay, back to 'Victor'. What can I say? Huge Sigh This was the hardest chapter, but Tidia tells me I am now on the down-hill slope. Let's hope so. I hope it meets your expectations. All your kind reviews have inspired me. -Rid.

RCJ

Dean was standing close enough to the falls to feel the spray, the cold mist seeping into his clothes with insidious tenacity. He resisted the chill threatening to shake his body, refused to show Rose any signs of weakness. Of course she already knew his Achilles' Heel.

Sam and Caleb were adjacent to him. Fisher was holding a gun on them. Joshua was there, and Dean found it damn ironic. It was hard to tell if he was being held at gunpoint along with Sam and Caleb, or if Fisher was counting Joshua in on _their_ team.

Ian tied Ethan and Elijah back to back, gags stuffed in their mouths. They were being used as incentive as well. Gideon stood next to Dean. "Can we get on with this? We have a hiking trip to get back to."

Rose purred around them like a cat in heat. "Boy bonding?" Rose traced a slender finger over his shoulder. "Is that what this little outdoor adventure is about, Dean?"

"You didn't expect us to go shopping for shoes at the mall and suck down a few venti caramel lattes now did you?" He jutted his chin towards Ian. "Sounds more like something you and your girlfriend might do."

"Fuck you, Winchester," Ian said. "We'll see if you're laughing when I waste you."

Dean looked at Gideon. "You have to admire his confidence."

"Even if his ego is completely self-inflated," Gideon said.

Ian pointed his gun at Ethan's head, glanced to Rose. "What's one less hunter going to matter in the grand scheme of things, Rosie?"

Dean shirked away from the demon's touch. "You start killing people, Rosebud, and all bets are off."

She grinned. "We're negotiating now? I didn't realize you had a say in the matter."

"You're going to need one of us. Why ruin the beginnings of a promising partnership with anymore bullet holes?"

"I don't have to use a gun to get my point across." Rose's gaze flicked to Caleb and Sam. "I have orders to let them live, but nothing that says I can't make them wish they were dead."

"Whose orders?" Caleb finished tying the makeshift bandage around Sam's leg and looked up at Rose. "Someone new running the house now that daddy dearest is dead?"

Dean clenched his jaw, willing Caleb to keep his mouth shut as Rose's smile faded away. Her latest bodysnatching victim's eyes flashed inky black. "If I have my way Father will be returning soon. We'll all be one big happy family, Caleb."

Caleb stood. "I hope you're not including me in your fantasy reunion."

"Father was patient with you. It's time for the prodigal son to return and take your rightful place." Rose glanced to Sam. "Both of you. Boy King, Dark Knight." She returned her velvety gaze to Dean. "Does that make you the Court Jester?"

"I'm nobody's fool."

"That shows how little you understand about the part you play." Rose leaned close, whispering in Dean's ear. "There's a welcoming party planned downstairs and you're the guest of honor."

"Why don't you enlighten us about this great master plan, Rose?" Caleb said.

Dean appreciated the redirect as Rose moved out of his personal space, but worried what secrets the demon might reveal.

"This isn't some poorly written movie where I arrogantly give away the punch line just before my nemesis gets the upper hand, Nephew."

"Really?" Dean smirked. "Because I would love a climax where you're shoved out of a twenty story window by some rabid shadow demons. But wait…that's already been done."

"You know my orders concerning you are very different. I wouldn't push my luck."

"You need him," Gideon said. Dean was surprised; Gideon was admitting he was not the next Guardian. He wasn't even in the running any longer. If Dean's deal ended the way he feared it would, then Dean would see to it that the firefighter would be the next Guardian.

Rose eyed him. "Maybe it's you I need, handsome."

"Who's to say I'd help you?"

Both Dean and Rose glanced at the bound and gagged Ethan and Elijah. Dean had to give the demon credit; she had played the game well.

"I don't make deals with demons."

Rose flicked her gaze to Dean. "A cut above the rest." She refocused on Gideon, licked her lips. "It's a good thing for the twin cupcakes that I'm betting the true Guardian isn't above climbing into bed with the enemy if the situation calls for it. Isn't that right, Dean?"

"Even I have standards, bitch."

"You really should know when to simply keep your mouth shut and look pretty." Rose raised her hand towards Caleb and Sam. "To share our bloodline, his defenses really are pathetic."

"Sonofa…" Caleb dropped to his knees beside Sam, head cradled in his hands.

"Leave him alone!" Dean watched helplessly-his brother wounded and now Caleb being attacked, too. He took a step forward, but Rose gripped his shoulder, digging her nails through his jacket as she continued her assault on Caleb. "If he would have embraced his inner demon instead of swallowing the humanity crap, this would be a very different scenario. He has no idea what he's capable of."

"Caleb?" Dean was relieved when Sam half stumbled, half hopped to the older psychic's side, gripped Caleb's shoulder with his own bloodstained hand.

"And neither does your brother. How pathetic, Sammy," Rose said. "You're going to have to work harder if you want to be up to par. You're both significantly lacking."

"I can't block her.," Sam sent a desperate look in Dean's direction. _Do something._

Dean ripped his arm away from Rose, feeling the scratches on his skin. "Stop it." The demon ignored him and Caleb continued to writhe on the ground. Even if Dean were able to physically take out Rose, or distract her from her attack on Caleb, Fisher and Ian had the upper hand. "I'll do what you want, damn it. Just stop."

Rose batted her eyelashes. "Say the magic word."

Dean clenched his fists, swallowed the bile at the back of his throat. "Please."

The demon laughed. "That wasn't so hard was it?"

Dean ignored her, and called out to his brother. "Sam?"

"I'm okay," Caleb said, pushing himself to his knees once again. He rubbed a hand under his nose, smearing the thin line of blood. "Bitch Barbie can go fuck herself." Both Caleb and Sam had blood on their hands. He didn't know how much more would be shed before this played out.

"Such language." Rose crossed her arms over her chest. "Pastor Jim would be so disappointed in you, my boy."

"Shut up!" Caleb staggered to his feet.

"I can understand why that weighs so heavily on your mind. You're prone to letting down those you love. It's genetic, I'm afraid." Rose twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "Be glad you haven't butchered anyone like Daddy did Mommy."

"If Reaves tries anything, put another bullet in Winchester, Fisher," Ian said from his guard position over Dean and Gideon. "Just don't hit anything vital."

Fisher grunted. "Gladly."

"Damien," Dean said, softly.

Caleb stopped, stayed where he was. Dean was sickened by his ability to use his position already, a position he didn't deserve and probably would never rise to.

"It's good to be The Guardian," Rose said. "Now for your next trick, I'd like to find the weapons if you don't mind."

"What makes you think we know where they are?" Gideon asked. "Ian must have told you the maps gave no specific details about the location."

"That was disappointing, but not unexpected. Over the centuries, hunters have proven to be quite clever. Still, they underestimate their enemy's tenacity."

"Are you saying you know where the weapons are hidden?" Sam asked. He and Caleb were standing shoulder to shoulder in seeming solidarity, but Dean wondered if it was to keep vertical.

"I do, Sammy." Rose pointed towards the rushing waterfall. "But as you can see, knowing is only half the battle."

"The weapons are _in _the falls?" Joshua spoke for the first time. Dean had discounted the older hunter, unsure what his purpose was, trying to recall that it was just a short while ago they were in Mackland's apartment.

"Or behind them," Rose said.

"And you came to this conclusion, how?" Joshua continued questioning.

"The first clue was the holy water," Ian said. "Rosie found out the hard way that the waterfall is blessed."

Dean stared up at the massive arc of water tumbling from the rocks above, which was giving off a glistening humidity to the cave. "It must be shunted through hallowed ground. Maybe a tunnel of consecrated metal."

Rose blew on her red polished fingernails. "Yes, clever but rather ineffectual considering I have you to do my dirty work for me."

"And what exactly is he supposed to do?" Caleb asked.

"I'm guessing this is the great test that your predecessor's journal spoke of," Rose replied, looking at both her hands as if she were studying her manicure or contemplating the necessity of one. "If he doesn't drown, then he's the chosen one."

"That logic is almost as inane as that applied during the Salem Witch Trials," Joshua kept the conversation going. It wasn't helping, Dean couldn't think of another solution except to go into the water.

Rose gave him a cross look. "I have a soft spot for witches, Joshua, but an old-fashioned burning at the stake is not out of the realm of possibility."

Ian gestured to his wet clothes. "There's some kind of barrier in the pool before you reach it, then something hurled me back." Dean hoped the clothes were hiding heavy bruising.

Rose clapped her hands together. "So, let's get on with it."

Caleb inched forward. "Dean's not going to be your test subject."

"We could always let The Knight proceed first. Although drowning twice may be a little much even for a hybrid like yourself. I really can't risk it." She turned to Ethan and Elijah. "There's always the understudy Knight. How are you at swimming, Wonder Twin?"

"I don't need a stand in," Dean said. He stripped off his jacket, tossed it on the ground. "What do you want me to do once I'm past the falls?"

Gideon reached out and caught Dean's arm. "Maybe I should try first."

Dean appreciated Lane's offer, but refused to allow anyone else to be placed in danger because of him. Rose thought he was The Guardian; there was no need to waste time. "No. I got this."

"Stunt double not required, Goody-goody." Rose gestured to the roaring falls. "But just in case…I do like to have a backup on hand. So you may get your chance later on."

"Dean…" Sam started.

"Sam." Dean grinned. He recognized the tone, the puppy-dog look. "Keep Damien on a short leash."

Caleb didn't say anything. Dean imagined it was taking all of his friend's restraint to resist the impulse to act, to do what came naturally to him-protect. Dean knew he would feel the same if it were Caleb or Sam about to dive head first into uncharted waters.

"Remember, I won't hesitate to take my impatience out on Sammy and Caleb if you lag in your mission."

"Keep your claws to yourself, Rosebud. You'll be the first to know when I've found the loot."

The water was cold, breath-stealing as Dean swam towards the falls. Once close, he felt a change in the consistency of the water. The coldness was making his movements sluggish, but the current was tugging. He wondered if the water was preparing a push/pull motion to toss him out. He was allowed to go on, his focus on the falls in front of him.

Dean had no idea what he was supposed to do as he treaded water. The assurance he had offered Rose for the sake of appearances were faltering as the pounding cascade loomed enormous only ten feet away. The water was so viscous now it was like moving through copious wet sand. He couldn't go back. The idea of losing anyone else bolstered his determination.

In that moment she appeared as a shimmering reflection in the tumbling water. The Lady of the Lake stared down at him. Her arms were lifted, hands held out, silently instructing him to stop. That wasn't a problem considering Dean was stuck.

She was unchanged from his dream, the same vision in which his father had been returned to them from Hell, whole and alive. Only now Dean was awake. He glanced over his shoulder. The others were all watching him, but no one reacted to the Lady. It was unnerving as he understood; she was his own, a link to the Guardian.

Dean faced the apparition, expecting to hear her soft dulcet tones echoing in his mind. When she offered nothing, he took a deep breath. "I know this doesn't look good. Me working with the enemy…But I have no choice."

This time he did hear a voice in his head, but it was Pastor Jim's, not The Lady's. _There are always choices, my boy._ Dean glanced heavenwards, licked his lips. "I won't let my brother and Caleb die. No one's life is forfeit-not for a bunch of weapons, not even for The Brotherhood."

The Lady's head moved imperceptibly. Dean wasn't sure if it was an act of consideration or merely a trick of the eye, an illusion created by the water's rapid flow. Then she was gone, the water around him instantly lost its heaviness.

Without a second thought, before she could change her mind, Dean dove, pulling himself under the pounding falls. He swam until his body brushed against rough rocks, realized his knees were now hitting solid earth.

He stood on shaky legs, shivering from the cold, but triumphantly on the other side of the wall of water. "Shit."

A cavern like the others they had encountered unfolded before him, narrow at first, but opening to a larger room lit naturally by countless sliver-sized cracks in the rock ceiling above. The water circumvented it, skirted snakelike around its perimeter to meander through another small passageway. Dean would lay money that if one followed the small river it would lead to The Rise.

Daniel Wilmington had balls. Dean would give the former Guardian that. He whistled as he took in the mother load sprawling before him. Boxes labeled 'DYNAMITE' and others with similar deterrents were scattered. Some objects were out in the open, a testimony to the constrained timeframe Wilmington and Tanner had to protect what they needed to store.

The sound of his name, barely made out over the roar of the falls, cut short his inspection. It was Sam's voice, insistent and concerned. Dean's gut twisted. Thoughts of what Rose might be doing weighing him down like his waterlogged clothes.

Dean moved to the edge of the water, staring through the falls where the others were only blurred blobs across the barricade. "I'm here!" he called.

Rose's reply was muffled, but Dean registered the threat, the menace in her tone over the cacophony of sound. Even after finding what they had been searching for, he was unsure of his next move. Dean peered intensely into the water, hoping The Lady might appear; offer some kind of answer or assistance. He closed his eyes, waiting for Jim to proffer a solution. When nothing happened, he returned his gaze to the cavern, and not for the first time, the answer came from the past-another legacy left from their predecessors.

On the wall, etched faintly into the granite was the symbol of The Brotherhood. The same three circles that allowed them entrance into the Sinks, the identical emblem which nearly caused Caleb's death, and the icon Ian tainted by using it to set a trap to push them into the cavern.

It called to Dean, the silver ring on his right hand pulsed with an energy mirroring the pounding in his chest. Intent on an unclear purpose, Dean covered the connected circles with his palm. The wall was cool, wet from the mist, but in seconds warmth radiated through his hand, raced along his arm. He thought about the symbol, what it stood for. Knowledge. Power. Sacrifice. All the attributes Merlin needed to make The Brotherhood a success. Together it was an undefeatable combination.

For a moment he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to be a part of something beyond what most men ever encountered. For the first time, Dean wanted to be The Guardian. But it wasn't his future. His future, for awhile longer, was beyond the waterfall. Dean took a breath, steadied himself and focused solely on bridging the gap between himself, his brother and Caleb. The Guardian reached out to The Knight, The Scholar

The deafening silence snapped Dean's eyes open. He dropped his hand from the symbol, swaying slightly as his body recovered from the lingering sensations tingling through his extremities. The falls had frozen, massive stalactites hanging from the rocks above, like gleaming silver icicles. "Shit."

Through the large gap in the now metallic overhang, Dean saw a silver pathway extended through the water in the pool, leading directly to where Caleb and Sam stood. He rubbed a hand over his mouth, stared down at his ringed finger with awe. "Holy shit." Rose was right. It was damn good to be The Guardian.

RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ

Sam felt a moment of panic as he watched Dean disappear beneath the water, not knowing what he might face once he vanished. He would be alone, no one to back him up. It was too close to the feelings Sam was holding at bay about Dean's deal. The overwhelming trepidation of letting his brother go, losing all control of what might happen next-the ache of being left behind.

His fear and worry were mirrored and intensified by what he was gleaning from Caleb. The future Knight stood ramrod straight, fists clenched at his side, watching the ripples where they had last seen Dean. Sam knew the older psychic was considering going in, consequences be damned. If Sam's safety were not at stake, Caleb would have already followed.

Sam ignored the flare of pain in his leg, the flesh wound more annoying than debilitating. He disregarded Fisher and his gun, moving to his friend's side. "He'll be okay," he said, softly. His shoulder brushed against Caleb's. "It's Dean."

Caleb met his gaze. "I can't sense him, Sammy."

Anguish reflected in the older psychic's gold eyes and Sam struggled to keep his own anxiety tamped. "Only because your abilities were weakened." He prayed that was the only reason.

"Maybe."

As the minutes passed, Sam's bravado followed, like a sandcastle slowly devolved by the tide. Rose's patience was apparently following suit.

"Call out to him. See if he'll answer you."

Sam did as she said, desperate for some kind of assurance. Dean replied, his voice carrying through the sound of the falls. Rose returned with yet another threat. Sam wondered how Dean was going to get the rest of them through. The demon wanted to see what was beyond the falls, but was stopped by the holy water. In moments, Sam had his answer as the falls stopped in mid-flow, solidifying into a jagged silver fortress. Dean was revealed in the middle, like a victim surrounded by the jaws of a shark.

"I'll be damned," Caleb said, softly.

Sam swallowed thickly, coaxing moisture to his suddenly dry throat. He looked down at the silver path that snaked through the river, its head now jutting out of the water at his and Caleb's feet. "Jim definitely kept some secrets from us."

Rose led the way on the silver pathway, practically dancing her way to Dean. The others followed behind, under guard. Sam read the weariness in his brother's green pinched gaze, but at least Dean was conscious. Maybe manipulating the silver became easier each time, less taxing on The Guardian's system. Although, Sam doubted it was a task that was required on a regular basis.

"Cool trick, Deuce," Caleb said. He took a step closer to Dean, but Fisher's gun halted his progress. "Can you turn Fisher into a silver statue of an ass for your next feat?"

"If only," Dean said.

Sam looked around the room, the incredibility of what they had uncovered almost as daunting as his brother's new found 'Guardian Mojo'. The journals were true. It was all true. Which meant somewhere in their midst lay an object which could possibly give life to the Yellow-Eyed Demon, as well as a device capable of destroying The Brotherhood once and for all.

"So Griffin's tall tales were dead on." Ian left Ethan and Elijah by the jagged entranceway, as he studied the contents of one of the boxes. "Twenty years of research and the old bastard isn't even here to enjoy it. There's some kind of irony there."

"Too bad you're not intelligent enough to detect it," Gideon said.

Rose gave him a shove to keep moving as she studied the numerous crates. "We need to find the amulet." She cast a glance to Joshua. "I'll need your help for that, Mr. Sawyer."

Sam would have found Joshua's look of surprise amusing had the situation not been so dire.

"I'm afraid you must have me confused with someone else." Joshua cut his gaze to Caleb. "My family has no ties to this piece you're searching for."

"But your family does have ties to the ways of the witch. I need you to do some good old fashioned magical detective work-scrying." She raised her finely winged eyebrows.

"I do believe you've been watching far too much Charmed." Joshua patted himself. "I don't carry crystals or such to seek out lost objects or persons."

"I have the crystal." The demon lifted one of the long silver chains from around her neck, at the end a pink-hued stone. "Rose quartz, I think it will do the trick."

Joshua crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't have anything to use as a reference point."

"I'll provide what you need." Rose picked up a wooden bowl from atop one of the wooden containers, then strode towards Caleb.

Sam edged in front of him, ignoring the irritation he sensed from the other psychic. "What do you have up your sleeve, Meg?"

"It's Rose now, Sammy."

"You'll always be Meg to me." Sam would never forget the hell the demon had put him through when he was possessed; the things she made him do to Dean.

"That's sweet." Rose smiled. "But our intimate history won't keep me from twisting your intestines into a painful love knot."

"Back off, Kid." Caleb edged his way around Sam. "Let the lady get on with this."

"That's the spirit." Rose reached inside her leather duster, removing Dean's knife she had taken from him. "I promise it won't hurt- much."

"Hey!" Dean said.

Rose rolled her eyes. "Don't blow a gasket, Dean. What's a little blood between kinfolk? It's not like I'm asking for a kidney."

"Blood?" Caleb looked to Joshua. "What's she going on about?"

"I believe she thinks the amulet has a tenuous link with whoever used it last."

"The warlock's smarter than his daddy thinks," Rose said. "You carry his DNA, and as a bonus the essence of the demon he called forth."

"Speaking of that, take a pint for me, Rosie," Ian said. "If I've done my homework, I'll need some of that mixture myself."

Sam and Caleb shared a look. Riley and Bradley warned them that it stood to reason if they figured out the potential weapon, then so would the other side. Ian was after Merlin's compound. Sam imagined he wanted to bring an end to The Brotherhood.

"And what if I'm not what you think I am?" Caleb said, softer.

"Oh, Caleb." Rose shook her head with a mock sadness. "Surely you didn't let yourself believe for one minute that you could be the descendent of Cole Tanner? That in some romantic twist of fate your whore of great-grandmother got herself knocked up by the Knight of The Brotherhood?"

Sam couldn't look at Caleb. Instead, he stared over Rose's shoulder, met his brother's unwavering gaze. No matter what they would stand by Caleb.

Rose laughed. "But of course you did, because that insidious thing called hope and your refusal to see the truth is what makes you what you are, a poor waste of demon and a pathetic parody of a human."

Caleb thrust his arm forward. "Just get it over with."

Rose appeared extremely pleased with herself. "Gladly."

The demon shoved the bowl at Sam. "Hold this."

Sam backed away. "No."

Rose flashed Dean's knife. "You want to do the honors instead?"

"Just do as she says, Sammy," Caleb said.

Sam took the bowl, winced as he watched Rose meticulously slide Dean's blade across Caleb's forearm. When finished, she grabbed Sam's wrist and guided the bowl to catch the psychic's blood.

"Our first ritual together." Rose ran her fingers over the edge of the blade, licking the blood she collected, before tossing it aside. "Father will be so proud of his kids."

"What now?" Ian asked.

Rose slid the crystal from her neck, dipped it in the bowl. It came out dripping red. "Now, Harry Potter works his magic."

Sam dropped the container as Rose moved to Joshua. He glanced at Sawyer as he tore the bottom part of his T-shirt, passing it to Caleb for a makeshift bandage.

"Scrying is merely using the properties of a crystal with the correct agent. Anyone could do it," Joshua said backing away from the dripping crystal.

"But you've had practice. It does require a certain mindset. Don't tell me you haven't lost your favorite Argyle socks at some point in time and wiggled that cute little nose to find them?"

Sam gestured with his head at Caleb, who had haphazardly placed the ripped t-shirt part on his arm. Caleb shrugged. There was a lot they didn't know about Joshua's abilities.

Joshua took the pendant with an indignant huff, began running it over the top of the boxes. "It is highly unlikely that this will work."

"I'm a gambling kind of girl."

"So you get your bloody little hands on the amulet, then what?" Dean asked. "There's nowhere you can hide that The Brotherhood won't find you."

"The fact most of your kind are rather busy thanks to you and Sammy releasing a couple hundred of my brethren works in my favor."

"If you take out the future Triad, you'll go to number one on the most wanted list," Gideon said.

"Why on Earth would I want to take out the future Triad?" Rose glanced to Sam and Caleb. "It's the first in the history of the organization. Caleb and Sammy are a demonic dream team."

Sam watched the demon's gaze travel back to his brother, wondering if she would include Dean's deal in her warped version of a victory. "The deck is definitely stacked in our favor," she said.

Joshua cleared his throat. "If you've finished with your campaign speech, I believe I've found something."

All eyes went to the now taut silver chain, the crystal pointing to a dust covered black box.

"Well, don't keep us on the edge of our seats, Joshua." Rose nodded for Ian to help. "I, for one, am ready to see the sun again."

"You should definitely enjoy it while you can," Dean said. "You'll be going home real soon."

Rose raised a brow. "I could say the same for you."

Sam's attention was drawn away from his brother at the splintering and cracking of wood.

"This isn't an amulet." Ian held up a large blade, cold steel with a black stone handle, a red marking decorating its side.

Joshua appraised the weapon. "Ian's skills of deduction are as sharp as ever. I doubt if it was forged in the fires of the Underworld either. It has the symbol of The Brotherhood etched on it."

"The Dragon's Talon," Sam said. It was one of the blades Merlin created and gave as a gift to his original Triad. "It belongs to The Knight."

Ian smirked. "Possession is nine tenths of the law." He gestured to Ethan, as he pulled on the leather shoulder strap designed to hold the knife. "Isn't that right, Detective Mathews?"

Sam could see the twin brothers were trying to get out of their bonds. They were still a factor, and their help could turn the tables when they got free.

"I suppose Merlin is as powerful as the Old Ones say." Rose inclined her head. "Weapons who know their masters, elixirs that can take out an army. It stands to reason he tapped into his own demonic heritage."

"Or succeeded in spite of it," Dean said. "Merlin knew enough to prevent your kind from taking over. What he started, The Brotherhood will see through. Even if you manage to conjure up Daddy Yellow-Eyes, he won't make a damn bit of difference. I killed him once, I'll do it again."

"You're even beginning to sound like The Guardian," Rose chided. "Too bad you won't have much of a reign. It would be interesting to see if the position would have healed that tragically damaged self-image of yours." She whirled to face Joshua again. "Keep looking."

Sam didn't know what it meant, but he had made the same speculation about his brother.

It didn't take long before the silver chain was once again being pulled straight. Ian tore into the crate with relish, like a child at Christmas. Sam picked up on the rush of adrenaline as the traitorous hunter lifted his hand to reveal a tarnished talisman. It hung from an equally discolored chain, looking unimpressive and far from magical.

"This what you're looking for, Rosie?" Ian snarled his nose. "Not exactly your typical bling."

Rose walked over to Ian, taking the necklace. "Things aren't always what they seem."

As soon as her hand touched the mottled amulet, it shed its flecked appearance like a second skin. Rose held it up, her eyes locked on the key to her father's salvation. Now unblemished, the pendant sparkled gold with encrusted jewels of various colors glowing eerily in the sparse light. "It recognizes those meant to wield it as well. Noah Seaver had no power over the charm, but I know how to harness it."

Sam felt the familiar nudge in his mind, reclaiming his attention from the pendant. Caleb was looking at Dean, but Sam easily heard his thoughts. "_It's our only chance."_

_RcJSnsnsnsNRcJ_

Dean knew it was coming, saw it in Caleb's eyes. He barely had time to send a warning glance to Gideon before the battle began. Caleb plowed into Fisher, fighting over the gun. Sam tackled Rose as she turned. His brother was repeating the Latin verse that would send her back to Hell.

That left Ian, who recovered from the surprise attack a little too quickly for Dean as he was caught in the open, weaponless. Ian's blue eyes flashed with familiar madness as he hefted his gun, pointed it at Dean. "Goodbye, Winchester."

It all took place in mere seconds, but time appeared to slow to a crawl. Two gun shots echoed through the cavern. Dean jerked, hoping Caleb had taken out Fisher and not the other way around, even as he braced for the impact of Ian's bullet.

The pain never came. Instead his vision blurred, a body brushed against his. Then Gideon was stumbling backwards, knocking Dean off balance. They both fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Dean managed to half-pull himself out from under Gideon's weight in time to see Ian taking aim again. Only this time the son of a bitch wasn't quick enough. He fell to his knees, a shocked look replacing the arrogant smirk. Dean couldn't stop the memory of Sam dying in an all too similar fashion as Ian fell face forward. Joshua was standing behind him, Dean's bloodied knife gripped white-knuckled in his hand.

"Deuce!"

Dean sluggishly turned to watch Caleb shove Fisher's lifeless body aside, struggle to his knees. He managed to shake his head, bring some moisture to his throat. "Sam."

Caleb followed his line of sight to where Rose was bucking on the ground, fighting even as Sam's impromptu exorcism did its damage. Dean was drawn back to his situation by Gideon's movement, the choking sound the other hunter was making.

"Oh God." Dean crawled next to Lane, turned him over. He tried to find the source of all the blood flowing from Lane's chest, finally pressing his hand over the gaping hole.

He could barely make out the muffled shouts and expletives coming from Ethan and Elijah, closed his eyes for a moment to get his bearings. Joshua would have to untie them. Dean was needed.

"Gideon, hang on. Just hang on, man. Help's on the way." Dean knew it was a lie. There would be no help for Gideon. A rookie would have recognized the fatal chest wound.

"Are…you alright?" Gideon coughed, blood trailing from his lips. "Did…I save you?"

Gideon's red-slicked hand flailed about and Dean caught it, held tight. "You did, Boy Scout. You shouldn't have done that."

"Guardians…have to live to fight…another day, Winchester."

Dean shook his head. "Guardians understand sacrifice, Lane." He gave up on staunching the blood, laid his other hand on Gideon's head as the injured hunter's eyes fluttered. "You'd be a good one."

"No…" Gideon smiled weakly, taking in a ragged breath. "Jim…made the right decision…the best choice."

"Gideon." Ethan dropped to his knees on the other side of Lane, his hands skimming along the bloodied mess of his best friend's chest. "G? Oh, fuck…no,no,no."

"I'm sorry…" Dean said. He released Gideon's limp hand, removed his touch. "I'm so damn sorry."

Hands were on him now, trying to pull him up, away from the carnage. "Deuce. Hey."

Dean felt boneless as Caleb got him to standing, maneuvered him so he was no longer able to see Gideon, so they were giving the Mathews brothers a chance to say their goodbyes. His friend gripped his shoulders. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Dean faltered, opened his mouth and closed it. He wasn't hurt, but he wasn't okay either.

"Come on, Kiddo." Caleb reached out, laid a hand along the side of his face. "Talk to me here."

"He…" Dean felt his eyes sting, his throat constricted.

Caleb moved his hand around to the back of Dean's neck, pulled him closer. "It's not your fault," he said, softly. "None of this is your fault."

Dean blinked. "Sammy?"

"He's fine," Caleb said, tightening his grip. "He and Joshua are cleaning up the mess."

"Rose?"

"Flew the coop before Sam could finish the exorcism. Left in a puff of black smoke, but we've still got the amulet and the dead body she vacated."

"Goddamnit." Dean sighed. "This shit is never over."

Caleb gave his neck another gentle squeeze. "We're going to get through this, man. I promise."

Dean returned his gaze to Ethan. The police detective was curled over Gideon's body, head resting against the downed hunter's shoulder. Elijah looked lost, unsure of what to do. "Not all of us, Damien."

Ethan sat up, his dark watery eyes meeting Dean's stare. "Merlin's elixir…where is it?"

"Ethan…" Elijah said.

The police detective turned on his brother. "You said it had healing properties…maybe even immortality. We can bring him back. We can save him."

The professor shook his head. "We don't even know if the elixir is real…if it's even here."

"The Dragon's Talon is real. It was here." He turned to Dean again. "We can find it. Joshua can find it. Please, Dean. I know you understand."

Sawyer appeared beside them, a sorrowful look gracing his features. When he spoke his voice held none of the usual biting sarcasm. "Ethan, I wouldn't have anything to scry with. Nothing of Merlin's remains here."

"Gideon wouldn't want you to bring him back." Dean looked up at the sound of his brother's voice. Sam's eyes were locked on Gideon, but distant as if seeing another place and time. "What's dead should stay dead," he said quietly. "He died a hero, fighting the good fight." Sam looked at Ethan. "Don't take that away from him. A warrior's death isn't the worst that could happen."

Elijah put a hand on his twin's shoulder. "He's right, Ethan. We have to let him go."

Dean stepped away, unable to watch his past, present and future any further. It was torture, penance for all the bad shit he had ever done, except everyone else kept paying the price for his failures. He felt more than saw Caleb shadow his move.

"You okay?"

"No." Dean ran a hand down his mouth, fought back the wave of nausea. "I'm not." He moved to Ian's body, blocking out Ethan's choked sobs of acceptance. As he kneeled, he easily recalled holding Sam in his arms only a few short weeks ago, crying his own tears into his brother's quickly-cooling body. Only the day before, he'd clung to Caleb with a similar tenacity, refusing to admit the crushing end. Dean hadn't been able to do as they were all asking Ethan to do. He couldn't let go.

Dean moved his hand over Ian's, rested his palm against the silver glinting on the bastard's finger. He closed off his surroundings using grief and anger to guide his way. There was little solace when he opened his eyes and watched a small trail of water trickle from beneath Ian's hand. Dean removed his touch. Ian's ring was gone.

"Dean?" Caleb said.

He didn't answer, though his friend's voice was rough with emotion. Instead, he continued to strip Ian of any traces of The Brotherhood. He showed the hunter's body no respect as he removed The Dragon's Talon and its sheath.

Dean stood, wiping at his eyes before facing Caleb. "This belongs to you."

Caleb took the blade, ran his fingers over the red circles carved in ebony. "What are we going to do with the rest of this stuff?"

Dean stepped past his friend, pausing over the dead body of the girl Rose had used. He bent down, took from her stiff curled fingers the talisman which was once again discolored and tarnished.

"We can't leave it." Caleb spoke again.

Dean slipped the amulet in his pocket, turned to face the psychic. "You still know how to set those small demolition explosions?" Ian and Fisher were bound to have brought back up supplies.

Caleb held his gaze. "I do."

"Then let's bury this son of a bitch once and for all."

RcJ


	11. Chapter 10A

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Chapter 10- A

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Wow. Here we are nearing the very end already. It's been a long arduous journey and I hope all that started with us are still here reading. I had to break this chapter into two parts, because it was getting incredibly long, and I didn't want you out there in 'reader' land to miss anything. Part 10-B will be coming up in the next week. There are officially three more stories in this arc, including what Tidia and I consider our season finale. It now has a working title. 'INVICTUS' (kindly offered up by a reviewer who I will give kudos to when we get around to writing it).That story will be a joint effort. There should be something for everyone. If you like kick butt, take charge, future Guardian Dean, you'll get that in Offerings and Takings by Tidia. Edge of Winter is more 'Oh crap, here I am tied to an apple tree about to be eaten by a fugly scarecrow' Dean. For all those who have so subtly implied I might have slighted Sammy, this is your story. They both lead to Invictus. 

I want to take a moment to say a huge thank you to those who reviewed this story, even those that I didn't exactly agree with. I always consider what is said, both praise and criticism. The latter isn't always easy to hear, hard on the ego, but I think I've come to realize that everyone has their ideas about these characters, or the other characters they want to see. Unfortunately, you can't please everyone. We all have a favorite character, an idea of what we want that character to be. In the end I can only write how I see the boys, how I envision them, and hope that there are others who share that idea as well. 

Warning: I thought I'd put a little language beware on this part, as things do tend to heat up. I think the swearing is very much in character, but I know some have more sensitive ears than others. 

RCJ

Mackland Ames studied the faces of the men waiting around him, finding the same reaction etched on all; no one knew what was happening. Missouri's cryptic phone call alerted him they should go to The Rise, giving an order to be quick about it in her typical no nonsense manner. The Rise was beautiful. Limestone solid under his feet, water meandering, and then punctured by the trees standing tall over it all. A place Mackland would like to see under better circumstances.

Bobby told him they shouldn't tell Griffin about Missouri's warning, but Mackland was dealing in good faith for the sake of all the boys. He was trying to do what Jim would want. Silas tagging along was expected, the arrival of Harland Sawyer was not. He held a lantern in his hand, as did Silas. The trio stayed huddled together, distrust of the situation evident.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Bobby hissed, scuffing his work boots on the ground. "No goddamn body invited him."

"His son is involved. He has a legitimate concern." They had heard the deep rumbling from inside the mountain moments before, muffled like a movie soundtrack through a theater door.

"He hasn't been 'concerned' about Slick since I've known him. I sure the shit ain't buying the convenient Ward Cleaver act now. He's sticking his nose in Triad business."

Mackland ran a finger across his brow. Bobby was worried, the inability to act leaving him more volatile. "Ignore it, Bobby. Missouri said we needed to be here. The boys are our only concern."

Bobby snorted.

The doctor returned his gaze to the deep trout pool, watched the moon serenely waver on its surface, giving the white limestone a luminescent glow. The thick vegetation and forest surrounding them offered an illusion of solitude, but Mackland's gaze kept traveling, seeking out his boys. "Missouri is rarely wrong about these things. She knew about Jim."

"Not in time for Caleb to get there." Bobby's flashlight illuminated the ground in a haphazard pattern.

"Some things are meant to be." Mackland had to remind himself of the cruel limitations of any psychic gift, his included. "By no means are psychics omniscient."

"I wasn't asking for a detailed account, a hint would have been nice." Singer brought the flashlight up to shine in Mackland's face, then detoured it to Griffin when he spoke.

"Something's coming."

Mackland was thankful for the interruption, watched Porter move around large wet rocks to the edge of the water, his head tilted in concentration. "The boys?"

"I can only sense a psychic presence." Griffin looked at him. "It could be Elijah or Caleb."

"Coming from where?" Bobby asked.

Mackland once again turned his gaze to the pool. There was no visible opening in the rock formations large enough for a body to pass through. That left only a watery exit, the boys swimming their way into The Rise from within the mountain.

"There." Silas pointed his flashlight to the farthest edge, near the base of the limestone. The water began to ripple seconds before Elijah and Joshua broke the surface.

Mackland started forward, Bobby's hand on his chest holding him back. "Easy." Silver from Bobby's gun glinted in the moonlight. "You're the patient one, remember."

His worry was making him reckless, concern for his son, Dean and Sam overriding his good sense. They had to be prepared for anything, especially with Griffin, Harland, and Silas in their midst. "Where are…"

The sight of the soaked sleeping bag held awkwardly between Elijah and Joshua as they found their footing in the waist-deep water stopped Mackland's question, his throat closing. Ethan emerged, holding the other end of the bag, lifting it as he stumbled after Elijah and Joshua.

"Shit."

Mackland turned to Bobby, recognizing the dread as his own. They both realized the camping equipment as a makeshift body bag. The doctor prayed for it to be Ian. "Joshua?"

Joshua met his gaze, seemed to understand what Mackland was asking. "They're coming," he said softly.

The vice released from around Mackland's heart. Bobby and Silas trudged knee deep into the water, offering assistance with the heavy load. "We got it, boys," Bobby said.

Elijah shook his head. "We've got him."

Mackland wasn't sure if the boy's voice was tremulous from the cold submersion or emotion. He opened his mouth, but Griffin's cry silenced him.

"Gideon. Where's Gideon?"

Dean, Sam and Caleb surfaced. Mackland noticed Sam steadied between the older hunters, looking worse for wear but alive. Thank God the three of them were alive.

"Answer me." Griffin was in front of Elijah, who along with Ethan and Joshua had made it to the rocky shore with Gideon's body.

Mackland ran a hand through his hair. "Griffin…"

"Did you hear me, Elijah? Ethan?" Griffin's voice rose as he walked into the water. "Where the hell is Gideon?"

Silas reached out to put a hand on Porter's shoulder. "Griffin, give them…"

"He's dead!" Ethan shouted. He dropped his end of the load, the lapping water surrounding it, the hollow thump chilling the night air around them. "Do you want to see what that bastard did to him? Go ahead, Griffin. Take a look. Take a long, hard look."

Griffin's gaze fell to the green bag. He took a shaky step back, Silas's hand dropped from his shoulder. "No…that's not possible."

Mackland momentarily glanced to where Bobby was helping their boys from the water. The father in him ached to go to them. All three looked exhausted, injured. His duty to his position kept him where he was. "What happened?"

"The sonofabitch murdered him is what happened." Ethan turned to Mackland, his voice breaking. "There was nothing I could do."

"Of course not." Mackland moved closer, never taking his eyes from Ethan's. "You would have protected him."

"Who?" Griffin demanded, crouching down his hand ghosting the green sleeping bag. No one shined a light directly on it. "Who did this? One of the Winchesters? The half-breed?"

Joshua stepped back, away from the group, closer to this father.

Mackland glared at Porter, but didn't need to speak as Elijah was suddenly stepping between his twin and Griffin. "No. They had nothing to do with this. It was all you, Griffin. You have no one to blame but yourself."

"My fault? Have you lost your mind?" Griffin stood.

"No. We've lost a brother." Elijah had a hand on his brother's chest, either for the contact or to keep Ethan away from Griffin.

"I would never hurt Gideon. He was a son to me."

Elijah lowered his head. "You should have thought about that before you trusted the likes of Ian Hastings. You put him in the perfect position to wreak havoc on everything you've taught us to hold true." Elijah shook his head. "You might as well have loaded the gun and aimed it for him."

"Where is Ian?" Mackland asked.

"I killed him," Joshua replied, turning to address his father, too. "Fisher is gone, as well. The demon escaped, but no secrets were compromised."

"Ethan…" Griffin said.

Elijah held out a hand to stop Griffin's attempt to maneuver around him. "Stay away from my brother. We don't want to talk to you."

"Elijah, you can't seriously believe I would wish this upon Gideon. I am guilty of trusting Ian, nothing more. I have never colluded with demons. I was not in on this plan of his to thwart The Brotherhood." Griffin's hands were out, palms up.

"Not like the last time, huh?" Ethan crossed his arms. "When you and Dad plotted to kidnap the Winchesters and Reaves, to kill Pastor Jim?"

"What?"

Mackland sent a quick glance to where Bobby was still tending to the boys. Sam was sitting on the rocky ground, his injured leg out in front of him. Dean was using bandages from Bobby's med kit to dress the wound. Neither boy met his gaze, but Caleb looked up. The doctor read the guilt in his son's eyes.

He sighed, returned his gaze to Griffin. "I don't think now is the time to discuss the past." Emotions were running too high. Gideon was lost to them. There had been more than enough hurt.

"You trust the Winchesters over me?" Griffin continued, raising his voice over the cacophony of the night sounds. "You have known me your entire lives."

"Then tell me you didn't do it," Ethan fell to his knees, gripped the corner of the sleeping bag. "Just say the words. Tell me you didn't talk Dad into helping you kidnap them. Say it. Now."

Mackland realized Griffin was unable to do what Ethan was asking, not without Elijah detecting the outright lie. He almost felt for the man, would have if not for the hurt reflected in the twins' faces. "We need to go."

Griffin ignored Mackland. "Things are not always black and white, Ethan. You weren't old enough to understand."

Ethan twisted the edge of the bag, ringing out some water. "You sonofabitch. You got Dad killed…and now Gideon. I fucking trusted you-loved you like a father."

"But now it's over." Elijah, still standing, placed a hand on his brother's shoulder in solidarity. "We won't be a part of your schemes any longer, Griffin."

"What does that mean?"

"It means Gideon died to protect The Guardian-the true Guardian and we'll not dishonor his sacrifice."

"Let me make it simple for you." Ethan gestured to Caleb, Dean and Sam. "We're on their side."

Elijah took a step closer to Griffin. "And if you go after them, you'll have to go through us first."

"You boys don't understand what you're saying." Harland strode forward, ignoring his son. Mackland had almost forgotten that he was skulking in the wings. "You've both had a shock. You're not thinking clearly."

"On the contrary, I believe they were quite clear," Joshua said, stepping closer to Ethan and Elijah. "They've made their choice, just as Gideon did. The same as I have."

Harland met his son's gaze, the lantern he was holding illuminating the surroundings. "That sounds like your mother talking, Son. You better try again."

"You heard them, Harland." Mackland made his move, edging out in front, staring down Griffin, Silas and Harland. "Now you all must choose. The war has begun." He let his gaze go to Gideon's shroud, travel from Silas to Griffin. "Casualties are mounting. We'll suffer more. The Brotherhood must be unified if we plan to win, as in Samuel Colt's time. You fight with us or against us. There is no gray middle ground."

"Griffin, maybe we should…" Silas started only to have Griffin silence him with a cold look.

"We will fight our own fight, Mackland, but it will not be alongside you and your farce of a future Triad." He turned to Ethan and Elijah. "I truly hope you both realize the mistake you're making-the same mistake your father made- before you end up like Gideon."

Ethan lunged for Porter but Elijah held him back. "Not now. Not here."

Mackland glanced to Harland. "Do you feel the same?"

Harland looked at Joshua, his face hardening. "I'm not as foolish as my wife and son, Ames."

"So be it. Any action you take against us from here on out I will consider treason."

"There are hunters who will follow us, Mackland," Griffin said with confidence.

"Those hunters will be considered traitors to everything The Brotherhood stands for. And when it is time for the new Triad, for the new Guardian, they will be dealt with." Mackland moved so his back was to the trio. He moved his gaze from Ethan, Elijah, and Joshua to the future Triad. It was the beginning of a promising army. Gideon's death would not be in vain.

RcJSnsnsnsnsnsNRcJ

Dean startled himself awake with the echo of a gunshot and Gideon's voice following him into the garish motel room as he relived the moment. A hand touched his shoulder, cool against his sweat-slicked skin.

"You okay?"

Dean looked up at his brother, tried to regulate his breathing. The early morning light streaming through the turquoise blue curtains had him blinking. "Yeah."

Sam eased himself onto the corner of the bed. Dean didn't miss the wince or the little hiss of pain. "You sure?"

"I'm fine, Sammy." Dean shifted on the lumpy mattress, pushed to sitting, trying to recall how much time elapsed to them getting the room and him falling asleep. "How's the leg?"

"It's okay. Mac redressed it before he left."

Dean frowned, looking at the clock. It was after eight. He hadn't meant to sleep so long. "You should have woken me up."

"You needed the rest." A dimple flashed. "Scholar's orders."

"Where's Caleb?" Dean looked around the lived in room. It only took a few hours for their belongings to be strewed throughout the room in the quest for warm, clean clothes and care of their injuries.

Sam jutted his chin. "Shower."

Dean listened to the running water for a moment. "Everyone else?"

"Ethan and Elijah…they were taking him home. Bobby and Mackland headed out with them to talk to Gideon's family."

Dean swallowed hard, rubbed at his weary eyes. "That won't be a fun road trip." He hadn't talked with Ethan or Elijah after the drawing of battle lines at The Rise. What was left to say? Their loyalty was an advantage, but at what cost? Their best friend was dead. Another person on Dean's conscious.

"It wasn't your fault, you know." Sam placed a hand on his brother's leg.

"Caleb mentioned that." Dean moved his leg so that Sam would remove his hand. "But he is the eternal optimist."

Sam frowned. "Ian killed Gideon."

"I was there, Sam." There was no consolation for what had happened. Dean had taken away Gideon's last moments. Time he should have had with Ethan and Elijah, his family.

"But being there doesn't keep you from twisting it into something it wasn't." Sam plucked at the hideous floral bedspread.

"He died for me." No twisting was needed. The facts spoke for themselves.

"You would have done the same for him." His brother spoke in a hushed tone. Dean didn't know what emotion to attach to it.

"But I can afford to." Dean was dead man walking. "The boy scout would have been a good Guardian…I think I could have trusted him to watch out for you and Caleb." At least as much as Dean could trust anyone with that aspect of the job.

"You're the next Guardian, Dean."

"That's not going to happen and you know it." He lowered his voice like Sam had done. He recognized what the emotion was – dejection. "Mackland's choice of a replacement just got a whole hell of a lot narrower."

Sam looked up, his face set in stubborn lines. "No one can replace you."

"Sammy…I know this sucks." Dean knew all too well what his brother was feeling. "But this hunt is over and it's time to face facts. No more vacations, no more distractions."

"You ready to tell Caleb that?" Sam gestured to the bathroom, the water still running.

"Not here." Not where the all too recent memory of watching Caleb drown and Sam being shot lingered. Not when the feel of Gideon's blood on his hands was too fresh. "The farm." At least there Dean would feel as if he had some control.

Sam held his stare, finally breaking eye contact. "Joshua is coming with us. We're dropping him at his grandmother's in Arizona, near Flagstaff."

Dean shrugged. It was still better than the fucking trip Ethan and Elijah were making. "The least we can do seeing as how he took Ian out and gave Harland the big kiss off."

"He seems out of it." Sam stood, taking a seat on the other bed.

The last person on Dean's mind was Joshua, however it was easy to deduce what was bothering the other hunter. "I'm willing to bet it was his first kill…first human anyway."

Sam nodded. "Like with me with Madison?"

Dean shook his head-his brother still needed to be reminded he had performed a mercy killing, one Dean wanted Sam to avoid. "No. That was different. Ian deserved everything he got. You were helping her."

"It's still the same kind of gut-gnawing guilt." Sam licked his lips. "He and Ian were friends at one time."

"Josh is a big boy. He'll get over it." Ian hadn't been so friendly to Joshua, and if it had come to it, Ian would not have hesitated to kill his one time friend.

"He's trying, Dean. I believe he wants to work with us, that he's on our side." "Yeah. Well, I'm not ready to smoke that peace pipe, Kemosabi." Dean sighed. Joshua would never fully be redeemed in Dean's mind. "But I will let him ride in the Impala. In the back."

Sam grinned. "My fresh leg injury trumps his."

"Exactly." Dean glanced over his shoulder. "He and Damien can bond."

RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ

The bonding his brother predicted consisted of grumbling, arguing, and a bountiful exchange of insults. Sam was consoled by the fact there was no swapping of licks, and mollified by the knowledge Caleb was only retaliating half-heartedly, obviously recognizing Joshua's mood. Sam supposed the hunter was avoiding the events from the previous day by lashing out in his typical condescending fashion. Sam preferred it to the silence, which gave him too much time to think about what would happen at the farm once Caleb knew about Dean's deal.

"So your grandmother lives in a retirement village?" Sam asked. Extended family was foreign to him, he only had Jessica as a reference point and Caleb's grandfather Cullen. He liked the idea of a big family, people caring for each other.

Joshua moved his gaze from the passing scenery to Sam. "Jocelyn prefers condominium community for those with a vast maturity."

"Sounds like one of your PR spiels," Caleb said with an elbow to Joshua's ribs.

"Is she hot like your mom?"

"Dean." Sam shot his brother a reprimanding glare and sent Caleb a matching one when the psychic laughed. "She's a grandmother."

Dean grinned. "So, I've seen some fine cougars in my day."

"Jocelyn is unique."

Sam found it disconcerting when Joshua didn't admonish Dean or retaliate with some crude comment about his decorum. "She's a witch, right?"

Joshua returned his gaze to the window. "She's an expert at the craft."

"She helped Maxim out of some tight spots," Caleb added.

Sam recognized the surprise in Joshua's eyes as he redirected his attention to Caleb. "And how would you know that?"

Caleb folded his arms across his chest, leaned against the seat. "John made me read every past Knight's journal in The Tomb-twice."

"My grandfather was more open-minded than most hunters."

Sam knew there was a great number of their kind who frowned on anything supernatural, and some like the vampire hunter Gordon who sought to destroy anything they didn't understand. "She must be excited about your visit."

He was pushing to make small talk. Dean's soft snort and Joshua's raised brow said they realized it as well. But Joshua humored him, clasping his hands in front of him. "I got the impression she was more ecstatic over the future Triad's impending stopover. She's serving lemon duck for lunch."

"That sounds great," Sam said. He had never eaten duck before; he supposed it tasted like chicken. Hoped it tasted like chicken, or at least turkey.

"Maybe I should stop for takeout."

"Maybe you should stop with the commentary and drive faster so we can get this whole forced affair over with," Joshua said, a hint of his usual bark seeping through.

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror. "You could have taken the Greyhound or hitchhiked."

"Dean…" Sam tried to remind his brother to show a little bit of kindness.

"Sam."

"How about some music?" Caleb said. He leaned forward and reached his hand to the front seat. "Something with one of those loud screeching way too long guitar montages you're so found of, Deuce."

Dean smacked the psychic's hand. "I could put on some Yanni for you, Damien."

Sam gave Joshua a sympathetic half-shrug when Caleb thumped Dean on the back of the head. "I bet you're glad you were an only child."

Joshua returned to watching the scenery. "Only a fool would wish otherwise."

Sam didn't purposively pry, but he couldn't help the wave of emotion he picked up from the other hunter. The moment with Harland at The Rise replayed in vibrant clarity through his mind. The eldest Sawyer insulted both Joshua and Esme, discounting his own son as if he were no more than a fellow hunter. As Sam turned in his seat to finish the ride in silence, he couldn't help but to wonder at how dysfunctional families seem to be the norm for The Brotherhood.

They were stopped at the gate of the retirement community. Joshua spoke from the backseat, and they were allowed entrance. All the houses looked the same, but they were guided in, and Dean pulled into the stone paved driveway.

There were chairs outside on the porch of the one level house. Sam was tempted to take a seat after they rang the doorbell and were kept waiting.

"Are you sure she's home?" Caleb asked, shifting his tall frame to lean against the porch railing.

Sam could hear a dog barking next door as Joshua once again pushed the doorbell.

"I just talked to her on the phone," Joshua said. "She's expecting us."

Dean bumped Sam's shoulder and pointed to two women who had exited the neighboring townhouse. "Cougars," he said, quietly. He tossed his hand up, offering with it a charming smile. "It's a rare opportunity to study them in their natural territory."

Sam watched the women flutter about, pretending to water the geraniums and straighten patio furniture. "Maybe we should ask them if they've seen Jocelyn?"

"Maybe they'll invite you over for some sweet tea and cookies, Runt?" Caleb said, shoving off from the railing. "That sounds better than lemon duck."

Dean smirked. "Better yet, maybe they'll make themselves a Sammy sandwich."

"That's disgusting," Sam said, wondering why he attracted elderly woman.

"And exactly the kind of barbaric comment I wish you would refrain from while in the company of my grandmother." Joshua had his face pressed to the glass of the door, trying to see between the blinds.

Dean snorted. "A grandmother who obviously knew you were coming and hightailed it out of here."

"Hello, boys." A woman came from around the side of the house. She was wearing a pale green flowing shirt with matching loose pants. Sandals adorned her feet, a wide brimmed straw hat was on her head, but Sam could still make out the silver hair pulled back. She wore dark sunglasses, but Sam knew she looked a lot like Esme. "I was out back getting some herbs." She held up the greenery in her hand.

She moved first to her grandson, kissing him on each cheek. Sam felt himself blush as she did the same to him, "You're Sam, Caleb, and Dean." She stood in front of the door, blocking their entrance.

Joshua frowned. "Grandmother, are you going to invite us in?"

"In a moment. Meredith is still looking over. Be a dear, Caleb, and wave to her."

Caleb's brow furrowed before a knowing grin spread across his face and he turned to give a much exaggerated greeting to Jocelyn's neighbors. "I'm guessing not much goes on around here."

Jocelyn motioned them in, taking Caleb's proffered elbow as she passed. "Oh, they'll be talking about the handsome men on my doorsteps for months."

"I bet you keep things stirred up around here," Dean said.

Sam didn't miss the pleased look as Jocelyn removed her hat and glasses, placing them on the bar top dividing living room from dining area. "I have my moments. But nothing so exciting as having The Guardian, The Scholar and The Knight plus my grandson in my home."

"We're not exactly The Triad, not yet." Caleb stood next to Dean, his eyes taking in the spacious room.

Jocelyn squeezed Joshua's hand as she guided him to a chair. "Soon enough, although you all look worse for the wear." She gestured to the sofa. "Sit down, and I'll make you some tea before lunch."

Dean and Sam sat, but Caleb moved across the room his eyes transfixed on a colorful print adorning the adjacent wall. "El Paseo."

"Bless you," Dean said.

Caleb tossed a frown over his shoulder. "The painting is called El Paseo, Deuce."

Jocelyn nodded. "You're a Jose Royo fan?"

Caleb traced his fingers over the print. "Who isn't?"

"Me for one." Jocelyn gestured to the young woman captured in swirling pastels. "Maxim on the other hand adored the man. Although I think it had less to do with the artist's genius brush strokes and more to do with his taste in subjects."

Caleb grinned. "Maxim obviously had an eye for beautiful women. You can't fault him for that, now can you?"

Joshua groaned. "Please."

Sam watched as Jocelyn patted her grandson's shoulder. "I see the future Knight shares your grandfather's silver tongue."

"He's a devil alright," Joshua said.

Sam was glad Caleb at least waited until Jocelyn's back was turned before giving Joshua the finger. "So, I hope you boys like duck?"

"We love it," Sam said.

It turned out that Sam wasn't lying. Lunch was delicious. The duck didn't taste like chicken exactly, but it was close enough. Jocelyn followed the meal with oatmeal cookies which she admitted were bought from the bakery down the street, and another round of her herbal tea with healing properties. But it was the conversation and Jocelyn's company that Sam ate up.

Like the one time Esme had visited the farm when he was a boy, Sam couldn't help but be struck by the idea of Jocelyn's role, at least the role she played in Joshua's life. After they finished eating, she took great pleasure in pulling out old photo albums much to Joshua's embarrassment, proudly showcasing her grandson's formative years.

Dean and Caleb took almost as much pleasure in mercilessly teasing the other hunter, which if nothing else seemed to transform Joshua into his sardonic caustic self. Sam sensed that Jocelyn planned it that way, that she instinctively knew her grandson was upset. Throughout the trip down memory lane, she touched Joshua, a hand on his arm, fingers brushed through his hair. It reminded Sam of the one holiday he spent with Jessica's family. The ease in which they showed affection, it was unsettling at first. Sam felt almost like a foreigner, adjusting to a secret culture, a lifestyle he quickly grew to covet.

It wasn't as if Sam wasn't loved when he was a child, because he was. He knew that, never doubted it. But growing up with a father, brother, surrogate uncles and one doting pseudo-grandfather didn't exactly provide the warmth of a mother or a grandmother. Then there was the whole lifestyle of a hunter to contend with. Hugs became sparse after about the age of eight, replaced by punches to the arm, noogies, and the occasional headlock. Jessica called his discomfort in normal social settings a 'resistance to casual intimacy.' Sam called it survival.

Joshua's gaze brought him from his thoughts. The other hunter was staring at him, a look Sam understood. One he'd found himself guilty of giving Joshua over the years when he caught the other man looking with envy as he observed him, Dean and Caleb.

It was sympathy.

Sam cleared his throat, refocused on the pictures, pointing to a photo in the corner. It was of three young men. Arms thrown over each other's shoulders, devil may care grins. "That's your husband's Triad."

Jocelyn squeezed Joshua's knee as she leaned forward. She slipped the picture from its bindings and offered it to Sam. "It is. They were something to behold in their hay day-a handsome bunch." She looked up over the rim of her slim silver glasses and flashed Dean a smile. "Almost as handsome as you three."

"Grandmother."

Jocelyn leaned back with a throaty laugh, kissed Joshua on the forehead. "I'm old, Joshua. Not dead."

Sam took a better look at the taller man in the picture. He was dark-skinned with a wide toothy smile and intense eyes. "Is that Victor? The Scholar?"

"It is."

"The one who _retired_?" Caleb raised a brow.

Jocelyn nodded. "His leaving wasn't exactly as casual and flippant as it seems. Many people frowned on Victor's decision to leave The Brotherhood at such a time of upheaval. Others had done it in the past, although it was rare, especially for those chosen for The Triad."

"Maybe he didn't want to do the job without Julian and Maxim," Sam said. All eyes turned to him and he suddenly felt extremely transparent. "I mean…he was the last one left. Right? It had to be hard."

Jocelyn smiled at him. "I think you are exactly right, Sam. It is always hardest on those left behind. Victor loved Maxim and Julian. He was by far the most quiet of the three and lacked some of their…let's say… enthusiasm for the work, but he was loyal as the day is long. When they were both gone, he changed. Perhaps a part of him was also lost forever."

"So he went to Hawaii, the land of perpetual leis and roast pork to find himself?" Caleb shook his head. "Sounds like a cop out to me. He had a duty to fulfill. You didn't see Samuel Colt quitting, when Tanner and Wilmington fell."

Sam noted that Jocelyn didn't appear offended by Caleb's observation, instead she seemed amused. "That's exactly what Maxim would have said." Her eyes shimmered as she shared a knowing look with Dean. "Knights and their valiant Code of Honor."

Dean returned her grin. "Tell me about it."

"There was also the fact The Triad was unprepared for such an upheaval in the structure of power," Joshua said casually. "My grandfather's Triad, however successful, failed to grasp the importance of preparing a future generation. I suspect Victor found the repercussions quite daunting. Not everyone enjoys the prospect of being left hanging in the wind."

"They weren't purposively grossly negligent." Jocelyn leaned forward and took the photo from Sam. She traced her finger over her late husband's face. "I tried to warn them of the disturbances, but like most men in their prime they believed themselves unconquerable, thought they had all the time in the world." She lifted her gaze and met Sam's once more. "We all like to believe we have limitless time together."

"Yeah." Sam swallowed thickly, knowing without even a glance that his brother was watching him. He pointed to another picture of the Triad, a fourth man joining them in the shot. He was a tall black man and at first glance Sam thought it might have been Griffin Porter, but on closer inspection he realized the man was too old to have been the scientist. "Who's this, Jocelyn?"

Jocelyn's face altered, a frown marring her delicate features. "That's Benjamin Mosley."

"Mosley as in Missouri Mosley?" Dean asked, also leaning forward to study the picture.

"Missouri's father." Jocelyn pointed to another picture of Julian Smith and Benjamin. "Benjamin was consult to Julian's Triad."

"What happened to him?" Sam asked. He didn't exactly understand the role of 'The Consult' to the Triad, only that like The Scholar they tended to be gifted, typically either psychic or with ties to the natural crafts like alchemy.

The smile returned, but didn't quite reach Jocelyn's blue eyes. "That is a story for another time, young man. If I don't retain some mystery, how will I ever lure you three back to visit me?"

"It's getting late," Joshua said. He folded his hands together, turned so he could see his watch. "I'm sure you expected to be on the road by now."

"Meaning you expected us to be gone by now." Dean smirked. "Tired of us monopolizing your grandmother?"

"Only child syndrome," Caleb said. Sam noticed the other psychic holding his side as he attempted to move to the edge of the couch. "Josh doesn't know how to share."

Dean stood and offered a hand to help Caleb up from the overstuffed sofa. "Like you have any room to talk, Richie Rich. You used to padlock your bedroom when we came to visit."

"There's no hurry," Jocelyn said. "You three are more than welcome to use the extra guest room if you'd like. The Triad is always welcome in my home."

"We appreciate it," Dean said. "But Josh is right. We should be heading for Kentucky. Mackland is expecting us."

Sam felt the twinge of his own injuries as he shifted most of his weight to his left leg and stood. The car ride and inactivity of their visit had left him stiffer than he thought. Jocelyn steadied him with a hand on his lower back as he wavered. "You are a tall one," she said. "My Maxim was about your height."

"Watch her hands, Sammy," Dean said. "That's the oldest trick in the book."

Despite her grandson's disapproving scowl, Jocelyn laughed. "I promise your brother's virtue is safe with me." She winked at Sam. "This visit, at least."

Caleb hesitated in following Dean out. Sam watched him stop in front of Sawyer. "If I didn't say it before, Joshua…thanks for what you did back in the cavern. I won't forget it."

"It's nothing I shouldn't have done twenty years before."

Caleb smiled. "Better late than never." He turned, giving a slight bow to Jocelyn, before taking her hand and kissing it gently. "My lady."

Sam grabbed two more cookies. Jocelyn escorted him to the door and Sam felt his face heat up as the woman gave him another peck on the cheek. He ducked his head in time to see her slip something into his hand. It was the black and white picture of her late husband's Triad.

"Jocelyn, I can't accept this."

Her fingers were warm on his as she pressed the photograph into his palm. "Yes, you can. I insist."

Sam looked at faded photograph of the three young men. They looked happy, untouchable.

"It's important to hold onto the best moments, Sam. Gets us through the tough times."

Sam met her gaze, nodded. "Thank you." He motioned behind her. "Joshua's a lucky guy."

Her eyes narrowed, growing sadder. "Not today, I'm afraid."

"I'm sure you can help with that," Sam said. After meeting Jocelyn, Sam was certain it was no act of convenience that Joshua asked they drop him at his grandmother's. He was coming home, just as they were in going to the farm.

Jocelyn patted his hand once more before releasing him. "That's what families do. Isn't it?"

Sam glanced towards the Impala where Caleb was leaning against the door tapping his watch. Dean was making kissy-faces. He might not have had a mom, or a grandmother, but he was blessed in other ways. "I guess." He chuckled. "If you can put up with them."

Jocelyn laughed, a genuine smile returning to light her face. "There's that Scholarly wisdom I've heard so much about."

Sam ducked his head in embarrassment of the praise. He wasn't sure if he was as smart as people were always claiming, but if he had ever needed his intelligence, now was the time. Sam was determined to outsmart the demon who had made a deal for his brother's life. Dean was not going to Hell.

RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ

Dean rested his head on the steering wheel. "It's good to be home."

They had driven straight through from Oklahoma where they had spent the night after leaving Jocelyn's in Arizona. The twelve hour drive at least got them to Pastor Jim's before dark. He lifted his gaze when neither Sam nor Caleb responded, or hurried to exit the cramped quarters. His brother was staring out the window towards the wraparound porch, looking all of six again. Caleb's face reflected the same downtrodden expression.

"What?" Dean surveyed the farm. Mackland's SUV was there alongside Bobby's car. Everything else appeared normal.

Sam sighed heavily. "I keep expecting Scout to come out to meet us."

"I was thinking the same thing," Caleb replied. "Jim too, in those stupid overalls he'd wear every summer, Atticus Finch grinning at his side, stinking of his latest skunk adventure."

Dean pulled the keys from the ignition. He hated the sense of loss permeating the car-knew that this time next year his death would only add to the list of things missing at the farm. "Harper Lee's probably hanging out inside, waiting for his usual belly rub."

Sam's mouth tipped up. "He never was big on curbside greetings."

"And Bobby never smells great." Dean glanced up in the rearview mirror. "If you ask really nice Damien, he might brush up against you."

"When did you become Mr. Sunshine?"

Dean opened the door, the southern summer air coating his skin. The aroma of honeysuckle and Miss Emma's roses tickled his nose. "Somebody has to keep you two emo-chicks from going all macabre. We haven't even started drinking any of Jim's stash."

Caleb exited the back with a stifled yawn. "That doesn't sound like a bad plan, Deuce." He looked up at the clear sky where the sun was starting its decent. "Give it a few hours and it'll be perfect setting for an all-nighter at the pond."

"I wouldn't plan the party too soon." Sam stood, leaning against the car. "Some of us are on pain medication, _Caleb_, and Mac may have other things in mind."

Caleb and Dean shared a look. "Debriefing."

"Sounds about right." Dean felt his stomach twist. "I guess we have to face the music sooner or later."

"You look like you're about to face the firing squad, Deana." Caleb punched Dean in the side as he passed him. "Dad's lectures are boring, but rarely painful."

Dean glanced over the roof of the car to his brother. "Here's hoping."

The smell of pizza greeted them, not the typical food any of them expected at the farm. Even more surprising was finding Mackland and Bobby spread out in the living room, opened bottles of Jim's brew strewn about, ballgame turned on. Dean rested against the doorway from the kitchen, studied the two men before him. "What the hell's going on?"

Bobby, feet up on the coffee table, plate of pizza resting on his stomach flicked his gaze from the television. "Dinner, Genius. What does it look like?"

The Scholar lifted a piece of pizza in greeting. The doctor was kicked back, baseball hat turned around backwards, looking completely un-Mac like. "There are two pies left. Join us."

Caleb's shoulder brushed against Dean's as he considered his father. "Cristo."

Mackland ignored the insinuation that he was acting completely out of character. "Suit yourselves."

Sam shoved between them, limping his way towards the offered food without a second thought. He grabbed four pieces, two bottles of beer and claimed the prized recliner near the TV. Harper Lee hefted himself from his pillow to make a b-line for the youngest Winchester.

Bobby gestured with his drink to Sam who had already devoured half a piece of pizza. "You can sure as hell tell the kid's had to fight you two for food most of his life."

Dean and Caleb stared on as Mackland laughed. "Do you remember that year at Thanksgiving when Jim proudly unveiled his succulent prized turkey only to find the two drumsticks missing?"

Bobby chortled. "The preacher nearly blew a gasket."

Dean shoved away from the wall, stepping into the room. "He blamed me."

"For good reason," Caleb said, finally joining them. "You were the one who ate half the apple pie for breakfast."

"You put me up to it, and if I remember you ate some of it yourself." Dean grabbed one of the boxes before Caleb could reach it and chose a place on the floor by the fireplace. "But I didn't touch the turkey."

"That was all Sammy." Caleb scooped two pieces from the last pizza box and claimed the other end of the couch by his father. "The runt had the legs wrapped in paper towels and stuffed in his backpack."

Dean grinned as he watched Sam's face shift to an indignant scowl. "It was the only way I was going to get one around you two. It's not my fault your greed forced me to be resourceful."

Mackland laughed. "If I remember right Atticus Finch was the only one enjoying a drumstick that Thanksgiving."

"Jim caught him trying to drag the Spider Man pack down the stairs from the boys' bedroom." Caleb opened a beer, ignoring the look his father shot him. "It was the only time I ever saw the pastor lose his cool with Sammy."

Bobby rolled his eyes, scratched his beard. "And by losing his cool you mean that he didn't let the kid have an extra helping of dessert that night, because that's as about as hardcore as he got with you three."

Dean rested against the stone mantle, grinning as Caleb defended their honor by ticking off numerous punishments, none of which validated his point, all of them increasing Bobby's gloat. The next couple of hours passed quickly as they recanted stories of Jim, his tolerance for the boys' antics, and uncanny ability to smooth the worst of ruffled feathers, even John Winchester's.

Dean basked in the reminiscing, an unexpected reprieve from reality. He could feel his father and Jim with them, Atticus and Scout, too. If only for a moment, his family felt whole, his problems a world away. A world in which Dean wasn't living on borrowed time and Gideon Lane's death never took place.

He wasn't sure what led to Mackland's declaration, wasn't paying close enough attention, but it quickly brought a halt to the levity. Dean's temporary sanctuary crumbled beneath the doctor's breathy confession.

"I never understood the ramifications of being a general. I have to say I prefer the job of right hand man."

Bobby rolled a bottle of beer between his palms. "You did good, Mac. Jim would have been proud of the way you handled everything with Gideon's family."

Dean barely managed to swallow as he watched Mackland rub his watery eyes. "Did you see the look on his father's face? I might as well have handed him a folded flag."

"He died a hero," Caleb said. "I know that probably doesn't mean a damn to them now, but in time when the war is over it'll bring them solace."

"Or not," Dean countered. He wasn't in the mood for Damien's 'Good will prevail' speech. At the moment, self pity was feeling appropriate. "Especially when they know it was all in vain."

Caleb leaned forward, one arm folded protectively across his stomach. "How could it be in vain? He saved you, in turn saving The Brotherhood. His sacrifice was for the …"

"Don't you dare say greater good, Damien." Dean stood. "If you do, I will so kick your ass, injured or not."

"Go ahead and try." Caleb stood, too. "But I'm not going to discount what he did. I'm grateful for his sacrifice…more than I can say."

Grief flared to anger. "Like you were thankful for Dad's sacrifice?"

For a moment Caleb looked stunned that Dean was using words from a private conversation against him, but the hurt was quickly camouflaged by the other man's temper. "I understood what John did. I hated like hell that it came to him making that choice, but I won't lie and say I wouldn't have done the same thing in his shoes."

Dean stepped forward, aware of Sam moving out of the chair to shadow him. Mackland and Bobby also rose. Dean could feel the tension pulsing, knowing the situation was going to escalate, but unable to find a way to stop it. "Like you made the choice to shove me out of the way back in that cave, Damien drowning for your effort?"

Caleb ran a hand through his hair. "Goddamnit, Deuce. That's my fucking job."

"It had nothing to do with your job." Dean moved closer, getting into the other man's face. "Admit it."

"You're right." Caleb poked a finger in his chest. "I would have done it whether I was The Knight or not, no matter if you were destined to be The Guardian or a foot soldier. Sue me. It was you, plain and simple. And I wasn't about to let you die. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Dean nodded. "Yes," he said softly. It was exactly what he wanted to hear, what he needed to hear.

"Why?" Caleb threw his hands up. "Why the hell does it matter if I did it for The Guardian or for you? We're talking fucking semantics."

Dean felt his heart pounding against his chest, could have sworn the room seemed to shrink around them. "I'm not going to be The Guardian, Caleb. It's not going to happen, man."

"This again?" Caleb's voice rose. He reached out and wrapped a hand in the front of Dean's jacket, giving him a slight shake. "What does it fucking take to get through that thick skull of yours? You're the goddamn Guardian, Dean. Get over the self-deprecating shit already and step up to the fucking plate."

Dean met his gaze, feeling his eyes sting. "I made a deal, Caleb."

The words didn't seem to register, or maybe they simply made no sense. Dean waited for the moment of realization-to witness the collapse of Caleb's safe haven in the confused gold gaze. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"He made it for me," Sam said.

Dean felt Caleb's fingers tighten in the folds of his jacket, as his best friend turned to look at Sam. "What?"

"Son…" Mackland cleared his throat, but a look from Dean stopped him from interceding.

"Back in Cold Oak when the demon took Sam and the other kids." Dean reclaimed Caleb's attention, steeling himself. "Bobby and I got there too late. That kid…the soldier, Jake, he stabbed Sam."

"Yeah." Caleb slowly nodded. "You told me that." He glanced at Sam, flicking his gaze to Singer who was looking as unsure. "But Bobby patched him up, used some of Joshua's funky mojo."

Dean watched Bobby shake his head. "There isn't any mojo for that kind of wound, Junior. Severed spinal cord, quick kill."

Dean felt the moment Caleb accepted what he was saying. The psychic released him, taking a quick step back to put some distance between them. "You…you made a deal. What kind of deal? With who?"

"A life for a life to set back what was supposed to happen." Dean licked his lips. "The cross-roads demon."

"Oh God." Caleb paled, bending slightly. "I can't fucking believe you would…"

"It was Sam. _Sammy_." Dean lifted a hand to steady Caleb, winced as his friend stumbled back another step to avoid his touch. Dean clenched his fist. "You understand. I know you do. You said it yourself, Damien. You couldn't let me die. I couldn't let him die. He's my brother."

Caleb ran a hand across his mouth, took a hitching breath before straightening to his full height. "How long?"

Dean opened his mouth, but Sam's voice cut him off.

"We can find a way to stop it, Caleb. It's not a death sentence, not by a long shot. We won't let it happen."

Caleb ignored Sam. "How fucking long, Dean?"

"A year." Dean easily remembered saying the exact same words to his brother. Had it only been a few short weeks ago? "I have a year."

Caleb's reaction was different than Sam's, but not unexpected. The future Knight shoved him hard, slamming Dean against the fireplace. He drew his fist back to deliver a vicious blow that Dean would relish. In Dean's mind it was deserved, completely understandable. Dean caught himself silently whispering the mantra, '_just do it_.'

Caleb hesitated. Dean read the turmoil and struggle warring in the other hunter's gold gaze. He knew Caleb better than anyone, realized even before Caleb did that the man didn't have it in him to do it. God. Dean wished he had.

It hurt a hundred times worse when Caleb choked, when he clenched his eyes shut, briefly rested his forehead against Dean's chest. "Goddamn you, Deuce. What the hell have you done?"

Dean tried to think of something…anything to say to make it better. Words were useless, like that made up 'mojo' Bobby used on Sam. This was a wretchedly slow kill.

"He died in my arms, Caleb," Dean said, softly. "I couldn't let him go. I just couldn't do it."

Caleb lifted his head. "Back in my apartment when you asked me what I was afraid of. You remember? That gut-wrenching, breath-stealing, piss your pants kind of fear? The kind real nightmares are made of?" Caleb shoved him again, but this time it held no heat, only resolution. "This is it, Deuce." He released him, took a slow step away. "This. Is. Fucking. It."

When he turned and stormed out of the room, Dean tried to go after him. Mackland stopped him with a strong hand and a shake of his head. "Let Sam go, Son. Give him some time."

Dean looked at his brother; realized Caleb wasn't the only one in pain. "Take care of him, Sammy." Maybe they could offer each other the solace Dean seemed incapable of providing.

Dean watched his brother go, unsure of what to do next. He glanced at Mackland, forcing a smirk. "That went well."

Mackland agreed. "Better than expected."

"Really?" Dean snorted. "Because I was being sarcastic."

"He could have broken your nose," Bobby stated. "Knocked some teeth out."

"Didn't you say you were supposed to meet Ellen, Bobby?" Mackland gave the mechanic a pointed look. "It's getting late."

"Right." Bobby clasped Dean on the shoulder, giving it a hard squeeze. "I'll be going then."

When they were alone, Mackland removed his ball cap, ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. "He'll understand, Dean. Trust me."

"You really believe that?" Dean felt they would never reach an understanding- he had irrevocably changed everything with Caleb, although in reality he was just putting things in their right places- he should have been dead, Sam alive.

"I do."

"Why's that?" He didn't understand how he was going to get Caleb's amnesty.

"Because however painful it was to watch my son blindly fall into it, your circular logic was infallible." Mackland reached out, set his cap on Dean's head giving it a sharp tug so it rested low over Dean's eyes. "You not only stepped up to the plate, Slugger. You hit it out of the park. Reminded me of some of the pitfalls Jim laid out for your father."

Dean pushed up the bill of the NYPD hat, giving the doctor a hard look. "Meaning Caleb's going to come around because there's not anything he wouldn't do for me…even if it's not in his best interest."

Mackland sighed. "Unconditional love… a blessing and a curse."

He pulled the hat off, the bill in his hand as he tried to bend it to have more of a curve. "For who? The receiver or the giver?"

"Both, Son." Mackland tossed an arm over Dean's shoulders, pulling him in for a quick hug, crushing the hat between them. "Both."

RCJ

A/N: Okay, don't worry. I haven't forgotten that Sammy was the one who died! Neither has Caleb. They will have their moment. We have a whole 'nother part. Boo has yet to arrive, and there's that whole 'Deuce' discussion. Trust me. As for the secret being revealed, I know a lot of you expected Caleb to hit Dean. Believe me, I went back and forth, almost did it at the very last minute. But Caleb refused. Like Dean realized, I just don't think he has it in him 'at this point in time'. You never know how things could change, what desperation might do to a person. We also know how guys bond by physical confrontation…Okay, enough said. Hope you enjoyed! Part 10-B coming up within the week!

Big Thanks again to Tidia for all her hard work and listening to me rant about completing this monster.


	12. Chapter 10B

To The Victor Go the Spoils

Beta: Tidia

A/N: I can't believe I started planning this story last MAY! It's taken almost a year to come to fruition, six months of posting, and I still have a problem with endings-too much like goodbyes, I suppose. But let's consider this a farewell, as I will have a couple of months to work on Edge of Winter as Tidia entertains you with Offerings and Takings. I also have an idea for a one shot Mother's Day fic to go with my other two, and then there is a promised birthday fic for the month of May. But, I still feel like I'm leaving. And on that note, some have worried that The Brotherhood AU will be concluded after the next three stories. Definitely not. It's just like a season finale. We'll be back. THANKS AGAIN for all the very kind reviews and interest in this story. Thanks to Tidia, who finished the beta work on this before going to the con in Orlando. You know, everyone talks about what a sweetheart Jared is and I'm kind of worried that after she witnesses 'SAM' in all his hotness for herself, her writing may take on a new focus…I'll find Sam's POV showing up everywhere . 'What about Dean?' I'll cry only to have her launch into how wonderful Jared is quoting verse and sending pictures as proof. I mean I sat only a few seats away from the guy in Texas at Jensen's play, and while he was quite incredible, I still had 'DEAN' up on stage to keep me focused. Of course, I could be totally surprised when she pitches an Ellen and Bobby central story. No falling for Jim Beaver, Tidia!

RCJ

_December 29, 1840_

"_VENGEANCE IS MINE sayeth the Lord. Perhaps I should have listened to Him. No amount of bloodshed will bring them back. They are lost to me. There is no other recourse but to let them go and move on. The Brotherhood remains, battered and broken, but it still has breath. In the rebuilding I will honor my brothers. By defeating their enemy, I will ensure their sacrifice is not forgotten. We will be whole again."_

_-Excerpt from Samuel Colt's journal_

Dean wrapped the tarnished chain around his hand, absently running his fingers over the dulled circle of small crystals. "You think they're okay?"

Mackland poured fresh coffee into Dean's cup, slid it to him before refreshing his own mug. "It hasn't been long, Dean."

Dean twirled the pendant, glancing towards the raised windows in Pastor Jim's kitchen. The last rays of daylight had vanished. Dean could hear the crickets and frogs starting their nightly performance at the pond. His thoughts turned to the last time they were all at the farm together-the night they celebrated the yellow-eyed demon's death. Although only a few weeks, it seemed a lifetime ago. Dean didn't know 

what he would say when Sam and Caleb returned, how he would explain his reasons for not coming clean then, but he wanted to see them just the same. It was completely unnatural to him to sit on the sidelines. "I should have gone after them. It's already dark."

"You boys grew up in these woods and there is a full moon." Mackland took a seat at the kitchen table. "Sam and Caleb will be fine. They need to learn to depend on one another. Your father and I butted heads for years before learning that particular lesson."

Dean rubbed his thumb over the larger center stone, muted with years of dirt and decay. "You're right. When I'm gone, they'll need to pull together."

"That wasn't what I meant, Dean."

Dean recognized the calm, patient tone, knew it was partially forced and appreciated that Mackland was working hard to distract him. Still, he found it difficult to pull his gaze from the darkness, even when the doctor touched his hand to reclaim his attention. "You were telling me about what happened when Rose had the amulet."

"Right." The younger hunter lifted the necklace in question. Being left alone with Mackland meant he would provide the debriefing. It wasn't as bad as he thought. Most of the details concerning Gideon's death had been filled in by Elijah, some facts like Dean's new found ability with the silver Dean left out. He wasn't sure if the twins had mentioned it, Mac didn't bring it up, so Dean tabled it for another time. It wasn't as if their lives needed one more complication or maybe that was an excuse and it wasn't something that The Guardian was supposed to discuss in order to keep up the mystery. That only left the information about Rose to report. "It changed when she touched it."

Mackland held out his hand for the pendant. "Changed how?"

Dean passed it to him with a shrug. "Damn thing turned shiny and new. Instant bling."

The doctor closed his fist around the necklace. "Really?"

"It was bright gold when she was holding it; the jewels were as red and brilliant as polished rubies, the center stone lit up like some starlet's diamond on the red carpet."

Mackland frowned. "I'm not reading anything from it, which is odd in and of itself." He ran the discolored chain through his fingers. "Most objects give me something, some memory, some sensation. This piece emits nothing. It's like a black hole, cold."

"Rose said it was made for 'her' kind, that she would know how to use it better than Noah Seaver."

"That would make sense, I suppose."

Dean lifted his coffee, pausing to look at Mac before he took a drink. "You think she could have used it to bring back old Yellow Eyes?"

Mackland rested the antiquity on the table. "I think the more important issue is that Rose believed that she could."

Dean sighed, letting the hot liquid chase away the chill Mackland's words had stirred. "You think she'll try to get her hands on it again."

"Unfortunately for us, I believe so. She's shown herself to be rather like an old penny. Hasn't she?"

Dean toyed with his cup. The bitch definitely had a way of getting what she wanted, wreaking havoc in the process. "What should we do?"

"We'll keep it in The Tomb for now."

"Will it be safe? Won't this be one of the first places she wrecks?"

Mackland ran a finger over his brow. "This farm is on consecrated land, Dean, protected by other means as well. There's a reason Jim wasn't attacked on these premises. Why we never worried about you boys when you were here."

Dean thought back through the years. Even though there had been trials and traumas at the farm, none of them had been supernatural in nature. "So it should still be okay for Old Man Taylor to keep an eye on the place, take care of the animals?"

Mackland nodded. "I can add some extra security if it will make you feel better. But honestly, Jim took precautions. That's why The Tomb holds its share of powerful objects."

"And the journals," Dean said. "The Tomb holds all of The Brotherhood's history."

"Speaking of which…" The doctor stood, going into the living room. He returned carrying his briefcase, from which he pulled several items. Among them were three worn leather bound diaries. He held the books out to Dean. "Elijah thought you should have these."

Dean hesitated, finally taking the tomes. "What are they?"

"Journals belonging to Daniel Wilmington's Triad, including that of Samuel Colt's. Elijah decided you were the rightful owner, not Griffin."

Dean ran his hand over the worn cover of the top journal. "Sammy will have a field day."

"Ethan also sent you one." Mackland took his seat and Dean noticed a weariness overcome the doctor. He watched with dread as The Scholar handed him another book, this one dark crimson leather with a Celtic cross embossed on the front. "It was Gideon's."

"Damn." Dean rubbed a hand over his mouth. "Why did they think I should keep it? I'm not The Guardian yet, Mac. Hell, I don't even have a place to keep them unless you count the trunk of the Impala."

"That's not true." Mackland picked up a thick manila folder. "Jim saw to that."

Dean warily eyed the envelope, his thoughts traveling back to the last time he'd seen the pastor. It had been during his coma after the car wreck. Jim and Atticus had come to him in a dream. The preacher had promised Dean would never be alone, and now it seemed the man was set on continually surprising him posthumously. "I don't understand."

Mackland placed the parcel between them. "He left you everything, Son. The farmland, the house, Harper Lee. His journal is in there, too. "

The Beagle's tail thumped against the linoleum at the sound of his name. He was curled by Dean's feet, under the table. The doctor smiled. "Congratulations, you're a homeowner and the proud proprietor of an overweight, slothful Beagle."

"What the hell am I going to do with a house, Mac? Or an old fat hound?" Dean growled. Harper barked. "What was Jim thinking?"

"He was thinking of your best interests as always." Mackland tapped the package. "This is good news. I'm holding it in trust, but once we clear your name it's all yours."

"Really? Because it seems like one more thing Jim wasted on me."

The Scholar shook his head. "Jim wanted you to have something to call your own, Dean, a place to return to when all was said and done. This isn't some kind of string attached to the position of Guardian. Jim would have left you the farm either way. He loved you."

Dean met his gaze. "But what about Sammy and Caleb?"

The patient smile was back. Mackland squeezed his arm. "Son, you better than anyone should know a house may put a roof over your head, but it's still merely a shelter. You're their home, Dean. Jim knew that. He was protecting their assets as well. He adored each of you, provided for all three of you."

"But the deal…"

"Doesn't change anything."

"It makes your job harder, Mac." Dean knew the doctor too well. Above all else Mackland was a pragmatist. He wasn't a romantic like his son, or a man of faith like Jim. He was a scientist, first and foremost. He dealt in facts, and the facts about Dean were quite clear. "Don't tell me it doesn't. Gideon's gone and you no longer have a pinch hitter."

"I won't need one."

Dean studied the books in front of him, the intimidating manila folder. He didn't want to read the doubt in the doctor's gray gaze. "Is that your heart or your head talking, Mac?"

"Both."

The truthful answer brought his eyes back to Mackland's. "I never really let myself think about being The Guardian until this trip, you know." Despite the daunting aspects of the job, Dean felt a thrill at the prospect of fulfilling the role, working alongside his brother and Caleb as The Triad. It felt strange that he would have a destiny of his own, one that went beyond his family's need for revenge.

"It's a huge responsibility. I know Jim believed he would have time to spend with you when John's quest was over. He was looking forward to sharing all those mysteries he took great pleasure in keeping from us." A sad smile touched Mac's face. "Besides his journals, he left you some letters. They're in the safe in The Tomb. I know it's not the same, but I hope it will provide some illumination that I can't."

"I appreciate everything you've done, Mac."

"I wish it could be more." The doctor's gray eyes glistened. "When Bobby called to tell me about Samuel…I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't know what to do. It was more paralyzing than Jim's murder, your father's subsequent death." Mackland moved his hands to his coffee cup, tightened his fingers around Miss Emma's china. "Perhaps if I had acted posthaste, called Caleb…"

Dean shook his head. "It wouldn't have changed anything, Mac. Don't beat yourself up. This has nothing to do with you." No one or nothing could have stopped Dean from saving Sam.

"It has everything to do with me," Mackland snapped. "It has to do with Jim and your father. We were the adults in your life, The Triad, and yet we failed you on some colossal level. Possibly failed you all."

"You didn't fail me. And you didn't fail Sammy and Caleb." Dean would never see it that way. "You were always there when it mattered. You let Damien hang out with us, even when I know you worried about Dad's tactics. You did more than you realize."

Mackland looked down and swished the last bit of coffee in his cup. "Obviously not enough."

Dean moved his hand so that his fingers barely brushed against Mackand's. "You're still here," he said, softly.

Mackland gave him a watery smile. "For the long haul."

Dean's mouth twitched. "No running off to the land of eternal leis and roasted pigs on a spit?"

The doctor's brow marred in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Hawaii." Dean laughed, recalling the colorful description Caleb used at Jocelyn's when describing the retirement place of the previous Scholar. "It has to be looking good right about now."

Mackland shook his head, a smile returning. "Perhaps I'll whisk Esme there for a long vacation in a few years after you boys have officially taken over as The Triad."

Dean quirked a brow. "I hear it's a romantic honeymoon spot."

Mackland groaned. "Please don't let Caleb hear you say that. I have a feeling he won't be speaking to me as it is."

"He'll come around, Mac."

The doctor looked up. "You really believe that?"

Dean grinned, enjoyed throwing the doctor's words back at him. "Yeah. He'd do anything for you, even if it means suffering through something as horrible as having Josh as a brother."

"Caleb already has a brother. Two fine ones in fact." Mackland pushed the manila envelope Dean had avoided to the young hunter's side of the table. "I believe our family is quite perfect just the way it is. Don't you?"

Dean took the envelope, traced a finger over neat scrawl on the front. It was his name in Jim's handwriting. "Yeah. I do." Now if they could just find a way to stay together.

_RcJSnsnsnsnsnsnsnsNRc_J

Caleb loved New York. The pulse of the city provided him an anonymity he enthusiastically embraced. He could easily lose himself in the rush of a crowd, one man wandering aimlessly in a hoard of people hotwired to their Blackberries, hopped up on Starbuck's finest, racing to a thousand different destinations. It was so easy to disappear, to hide in plain sight.

On the farm amongst the giant oaks and fragrant blue spruce he was easily found. "Go away, Sam," he said, before the kid could move into the bubble of moonlight bathing the tree Caleb leaned against.

Caleb had sensed the other psychic before he heard him, the crunch of pinecones under his feet a dead giveaway. A rookie mistake he knew Sam made on purpose, wanting to offer him a moment to compose himself. Leave it to Sam to be thoughtful, even as he planned an ambush.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

Caleb opened his eyes, his anger coming to the forefront of the emotions rolling around just under the surface. "What the hell do you think?"

Sam stepped into the light, hunched over with hands shoved in his pockets. "I think you're probably pissed."

"Probably?" Caleb pushed off the tree. "Pissed doesn't begin to cover it." He wasn't sure there was even a word suitable for what he was feeling. "You lied to me. All of you! " His own family had kept him in the dark. The two people he trusted most in the world…fucking lying liars that lie. The lot of them.

Sam bit his lower lip, glanced down at the ground. "It was complicated."

"Complicated?" Caleb moved closer to Sam, using all his restraint to keep his hands from the younger hunter's throat. "What's complicated about the truth, Sam?"

"Everything happened so fast. The demons were released, and then Dean killed Yellow Eyes. We were here at the farm celebrating, then Vegas and…"

"Vegas." Caleb groaned, ran both hands through his hair. "What the hell _was _Vegas?" He acted like an idiot by throwing booze, money and women at the two younger hunters, giving them a vacation of a lifetime-literally. "You and Deuce let me go on like some kind of fool. I thought we were commemorating a victory for fuck's sake. I thought for once we'd come out ahead of those bastards. Made them pay for what they did to our families. Was it some kind of sick last hoorah? A twisted farewell? Were you just humoring me?"

"No. It wasn't about you." Sam stood straighter. "I thought Dean deserved some time away, a vacation…"

Caleb laughed. "A vacation? You thought he deserved a vacation? Damn, Sammy. Dean deserves a whole hell of a lot more than some flashy stay in Sin City."

"Don't you think I know that? He gave up his life for me. I understand all too well what Dean deserves."

"Then why the hell didn't you tell me? Why didn't Bobby or Mackland call me when you… I could have done something…anything."

"I wish they would have called you," Sam fired back. "I wish you would have been there… stopped him. I wish I would have stayed dead. I wish none of this was happening."

Caleb felt the sharp sting of the words like a hard slap. "Shit, Sammy." He sank wearily to the ground, head in his hands. He hadn't begun to let himself think about the ramifications of what had truly happened. Sam had died. It was too painful to wrap his mind around. Jim and John's deaths had been hard enough, but the boys were another level of grief entirely. "I didn't mean that. God, not the way it sounded." None of it was Sam's fault. Not one fucking bit of it. "I'm so damn glad you're here…that you're okay." He couldn't imagine losing either of the Winchesters. Like he had told Dean earlier, it was his greatest fear-failing John, failing them.

Caleb lifted his gaze when the younger hunter touched his shoulder. "It's okay," Sam said quietly. "I know what you meant. It's the whole big brother dynamic. I'm glad you watch out for Dean. It's obvious someone needs to."

"It is the big brother thing…but it's not exclusive to Dean. I want to protect both of you."

"You didn't fall down on the job. This is all my doing."

"You didn't do this, Sam. That yellow-eyed bastard did." Caleb had a fleeting thought of bringing the sonofabitch back just so he could kill him again, this time much slower and more painfully than the bullet Dean used. "But I am responsible. I'm supposed to be The Knight. You and Dean are my priorities. I knew after Oliver was killed I was being set up, pulled away for a reason. But there were no visions."

There were a few nightmares, but he explained them away. The dreams had made no sense. Caleb on the sandy shore of a beach, in the throes of a violent storm, Sam and Dean called to him. They were in pain, needed him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't reach the water, the wet coast providing mooring, holding him prisoner as the wrath of the sea bore them away until Caleb could hear nothing but the pounding of the waves, the hammering of his own heartbeat. He looked up at Sam. "I thought I was just being paranoid after that bitch Meg murdered Moose's family. I should have paid more attention."

Sam took a seat on the ground beside him, easing his injured leg out in front. "I didn't have a vision about Dad when…you know."

Caleb appreciated the fact Sam was trying to let him off the hook, ease his guilt. "Me neither. At least not until it was too late." John had sent him from the hospital like a glorified errand boy to fetch his truck before the authorities could find it. But Caleb had felt his loss the minute it had happened, one of the lifelines buoying him, suddenly cut, gone forever.

"For a long time, I was so pissed. What good is it to be psychic if I can't save the people I love?" Sam tilted his head in a thoughtful manner Caleb recognized. Tiny Einstein was taking over. "Then I started thinking that maybe when demons are involved they can block our visions or have us see what they want us to see."

"Like we're on the same wavelength and it creates a sort of blind spot?" Caleb said.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. There was probably no way you would have known I was in danger unless the yellow-eyed demon wanted you to know."

"I guess that makes sense for me, Runt." Caleb twisted his ring around his finger. "Seeing as how my abilities are connected to theirs, but you…your gift is different."

"Why do you do that?" Sam's voice edged up. "You find it so easy to see yourself as one of them, but won't even consider the possibility when it comes to me - even though our abilities are so similar."

Caleb frowned, not sure how the conversation had veered. "You're not like me. . ."

"Maybe, I should be."

"What do you mean?"

Sam sighed. "Back in Cold Oak I knew there could be only one of us left. That was the whole point of setting up the sick game. I knew it had come down to me or Jake, but I…I was so afraid of becoming one of them…I wanted to prove I was good, not evil. So I…I…"

"You what?"

"I couldn't do it, Caleb," Sam confessed. He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. "I had the chance. I could have killed Jake, but I didn't. I was weak, selfish and now Dean is going to suffer for it. "

The older psychic took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "You wanted to believe the best about Jake. You tried to do the right thing. That's who you are." Caleb understood such honor could be a hindrance in a war. Sometimes it didn't matter how you survived, only that you did. Kill or be killed. John had drilled him and Dean with that lesson. Maybe they had shielded Sam from some realities too well. "Your humanity sets you apart, Sammy." Right or wrong, Caleb knew all too well why they protected the other boy, keeping in him the things that they couldn't allow themselves-an emotional savings account. Dean was stalwart in preserving the best of his brother - things like innocence, kindness, and compassion. Sam was like a living legacy of what had been stolen from Caleb and Dean as children.

"My humanity cost my brother his life. How screwed up is that?"

Caleb held his gaze, his chest tightening. Maybe they had made a horrendous mistake, one Bobby had warned them about time and again. This was their penance, Dean paying the ultimate price. "This deal…How bad is it?"

Sam faced him, the moonlight casting a dark shadow across the planes of his face. "Bad." Caleb watched Sam's eyes darken. "Dean said it's ironclad. If he tries to get out of it, I'm dead again. You know him, Caleb. He won't let that happen. He won't risk me."

He stared up at the night sky. "Yeah. I know him." Captain One Helluva Big Brother to the rescue. "He spent most of his life working up to this finale."

"Do you think we can stop it?"

Caleb was thoughtful for a moment, and then pointed above them. "You see that limb?"

Sam was watching him carefully, as if he were afraid Caleb had reached some breaking point. He nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"I came out here for a reason." Caleb licked his lips. "After Deuce's revelation … all I could think about was that time when he was about nine. It was the middle of summer, hot enough to fry eggs on the front porch, and Jim had the brilliant idea for us to pick blackberries for a pie. Honestly, I think it was more to get us out of his hair for a while than anything else."

Caleb picked a few blades of grass, twined them around his finger. "Dean bugged the piss out of me until I agreed to go. Traipsing through the woods wasn't exactly high on my teenage list of cool things to do."

"I'd guess not," Sam said.

"But we lucked out and found a couple of bushes that the bugs and birds hadn't beaten us to," Caleb continued. "I turned to get the bucket, took my eyes off of him for just a second, and when I turned back around he had this huge ass rock in his hand."

Sam looked up at the tree again, sudden realization dawning on his face. "The hornet's nest. This is where the bees stung Dean."

Caleb tossed the remains of the shredded grass. "I'd told him to leave the damn thing alone just seconds before. But there he was leg cocked, arm drawn back like he was on a fucking pitching mound, eyes locked on his target with fierce determination. My mind made the connection but not soon enough. The instant I realized what he was about to do, was an instant too late. He'd already went and done it."

"I couldn't even get a word out…just stood there frozen watching that rock leave his hand, hurtle towards the intended target like a loaded missile." Caleb dropped his head. "The damn nest was on the ground, cracked open like a smashed melon, bees swarming all around us, all before I could even reach him."

"But you saved his life then," Sam said.

"That's not the point, Sam. The point is, I saw it coming and didn't stop it. He got hurt. It's like I've been watching _this_ moment take shape in slow motion for the last twenty years, and just like that second with the bee's nest, I was completely helpless to stop it." He met the younger man's gaze. "And now he's going to be hurt again, only worse."

"You can't control everything."

"I don't want to control everything. I just want to be able to keep my family safe." Caleb wondered if that was how it was for Isaac Reaves, and Thomas Reaves before him. He knew John Winchester had struggled with the same overwhelming battle, and feared their failure was a fate he couldn't escape. "Is that asking too goddamn much?"

"No. I mean I hope not, because I want the same thing."

"Yeah. I know you do."

"We can't lose him, Caleb."

That went without saying, but the older psychic didn't have a chance to reply because a snapping of a twig in the distance had them both alert, on their feet and in defensive positions. "Do you sense anyone?" Sam asked.

Caleb moved in front of the younger Winchester, searching the shadowy forest around them. "Mac and Dean are still in the house. Nothing human…"

"It's a dog," Sam interrupted, moving around Caleb. "And it's not Harper Lee."

Caleb grabbed his arm. "Then may I suggest we proceed with caution seeing as how this place has wolves and wild dogs as well as your run of the mill idle Beagle."

Sam frowned as a loud whine echoed from a stand of pines to their right. "Since when do rabid canines sound like that?"

"It could be a ploy."

Winchester snorted. "Why don't you reach out to it, see if you can get a reading?"

"Why don't you?" Caleb said. "Experience has taught me that the less mind melding I do with our four-legged friends, the better." He had used his abilities with both Atticus Finch and Scout on occasions when necessity demanded it. Animals were open conduits, more attuned than children. Unfortunately, once you opened that door, they rarely forgot how to find their way back. It could be inconvenient to say the least. There were some things Sam was inevitably going to have to learn on his own. "But, hey, knock yourself out Tarzan."

Sam tilted his head, a sudden frown marring his face. "He's hurt." He turned to the other hunter. "But I can't actually sense anything else."

Caleb sighed, gesturing to the trees. "Let's check it out." Like any skill, Sam's abilities still needed fine tuning. Then there was the aspect where Caleb knew Sam held back. It was a struggle Caleb still dealt with concerning his own gift. "We'll work on the Jedi stuff later."

They didn't have to go far before they found the dog. The overgrown pup was beneath the spruce, sitting on its haunches. It stood as they approached, tail swishing furiously, unafraid of their advance.

"Hey there," Sam said, softly. More whining followed, the dog tilting its head slightly to study the newcomers.

"I think he's reading us," Caleb said with a soft laugh.

Sam lifted a brow. "It's a boy? Did you get that telepathically?"

"No." Caleb pointed to the animal. "Anatomy class, freshman year."

"Smart ass," Sam grumbled, easing another step towards the dog, his hand held low, open palmed.

"He looks starved." Sam pointed out the concaved ribcage and rangy body. "Some idiot probably dropped him off on the road."

Caleb moved alongside Sam, mimicking his actions. "Check out the trap." The older psychic gestured to the dog's left paw. "Fucking hunters after coyotes or the few rogue wolves still around."

"Jim used to sweep the place for them. I guess since he's been gone no one's taken the time." Sam stopped short of touching the dog, instead letting the pup stretch his nose out to him. When a wet pink tongue slid across his fingers, Sam assumed it safe.

"Looks like your new friend has a nose for trouble," Caleb said, bending down to study the steel jaws.

"Or just wanted a meal." Sam kicked at a piece of rotting bait lying near the trap.

"At least it's rubber-lined. The bastards weren't completely heartless. Looks like he's done more damage trying to get it off than the trap actually did." Caleb jutted his chin to the dog. "Make sure Cujo doesn't take my hand off while I work on the spring coil."

"He made out better than Dean did that time," Sam said. He ran his hand over the dog's head in a soothing manner. "Those steel claws did a number on his ankle."

"I'd almost forgotten about that." Caleb pressed the lever to release the trap, smirked at Sam. "Thanks for the reminder of yet another time when Deuce ran headlong into a disaster."

Sam smiled. "Would it help to point out that you saved him then, too?"

"I think you were in on that particular rescue, Runt."

"I guess we make a good team," Sam said.

"We've had our moments."

"We can save him again, Caleb. I know it."

"We don't have a choice." Caleb refused the alternative. Imagining John in Hell had been torturous. The thoughts of Dean suffering a similar fate were beyond him. "But what about this guy?"

Sam studied the dog, who upon being released had wormed his way under Sam's arm. "We have to take him home with us."

Caleb shook his head. "Do you remember that you live out of a black muscle car and my apartment poses as more of a weigh station than home?"

"I mean the farm. Jim would want us to."

Caleb refrained from pointing out that Jim was no longer there to offer sanctuary to every stray in the area. "I suppose Jim would want us to pick a name for him too, something from _To Kill a Mockingbird_ perhaps?"

"That's a great idea." Sam nodded. "How about Boo? Boo Radley?"

Caleb laughed at how quickly Sam thought of a name as if he had been waiting for just such an opportunity to get a pet. He'd only been half serious, but the look on Sam's face was so earnest and childlike that he couldn't recant now. "It's a hell of a lot better than Dill."

RcJSnsnsnsnsnsNRcJ

Dean heard the bang of the porch screen door followed by Caleb and Sam's voices. He closed his eyes briefly, a relieved sigh escaping him. Mackland had retreated to the library, leaving Dean alone with the 'what ifs' and the 'should haves.' He turned in his seat, picked up one of the journals, trying not to look like a nervous parent waiting for the kids to return home.

Sam entered first, but Caleb wasn't on his heels. Instead a large beast of a dog sauntered in after the younger Winchester. The animal looked like a cross between a Labrador and Golden Retriever, maybe something else thrown in for good measure. His fur was dirty and matted, but appeared to be the color 

of wheat underneath all the grime. The eyes were chocolate brown, clear and anxious to please. Despite the size, Dean guessed he or she was more pup than grown.

Dean turned in his seat, grabbing Harper Lee's collar as the Beagle growled low in his throat, hair standing up along the ridge of his broad back. "What the hell is that?" Dean asked, voicing Harper Lee's sentiment.

"Not a that," Sam said. "He's a who."

Dean tightened his hold on the Beagle as Harper bared his teeth. "A who?"

The pup whined, limping towards Dean and the other dog with front paw held high. He was dripping blood on Jim's clean floor.

"Actually, it's Boo." Caleb stepped into the kitchen. Dean watched him kneel beside the dog; murmur something to the pup before pointing to Harper Lee. "Don't worry, Harper. Dean will get him a pillow of his own."

The Beagle growled again, lowering his head protectively over the lump of a squirrel squeaky toy passed down from Atticus Finch to Scout then bequeathed to Harper.

"And a furry fake friend to slobber on as well," Caleb said, reaching out to tug on one of the Beagle's floppy ears.

That seemed to satisfy Harper and Dean let him go to sniff out the new dog. "What did you two do? We don't need another…"

"Boo," Sam supplied. He kept his hand on the pup's head. "Not as in a ghost 'Boo,' although that's also kind of fitting. But Boo as in Boo Radley-from _To Kill a Mockingbird_."

"I know who Boo Radley is, Sam," Dean said, instantly recognizing yet another name from Jim's favorite book. Boo Radley was the mythic reclusive neighbor, who became a reluctant hero in the end of the tale. He looked at Caleb. "Which one of you literary geniuses came up with that original concept?"

Caleb shrugged, continuing to pet the dog. "We thought Jim would approve."

Dean snorted. "You went out for a walk and come back with a stray dog. Yeah, Jim would have found that amusing." It had 'Sammy' written all over it.

"We saved him," Sam said.

The older Winchester folded his arms over his chest, his brother confirming his assumption. "Saved him? From what, Samantha? A large mud puddle?"

Sam gestured to Boo's paw. "No. He was tangled up in a fox trap."

Dean clenched his jaw, kneeling down to inspect the damage. "Sonofabitches give hunting a bad name." He knew firsthand what it felt like to step into one of the barbaric things. Boo licked his hand as Dean ran his fingers along the pups leg and paw. "He's lucky you two found him."

"It appears Sammy and I make a pretty good team." Caleb met Dean's gaze. "Boo seemed to be in a bad spot and we thought the farm could use some new blood. That the new Guardian might need a new guard dog."

The pup moved from bathing Dean's hand to licking his face in a slow deliberate pace. "Yeah. Because Boo here seems pretty vicious." Dean moved the dog's head and gently let go of his paw. "This looks like a job for Dr. Doolittle."

Caleb stood. "I was thinking the same thing."

Sam frowned. "Mac hates it when anyone calls him that."

"That's why you're going to ask him, Runt."

"No way." Sam raised his hands, backing away. "You're his son."

Dean pointed at his brother. "But he likes you best, Sammy."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "But he's your dog, Dean. We're giving him to you."

"Surprise, surprise, but I already have a dog." Dean pointed to Harper, who had quickly bored of the sniffing and was now softly snoring, head resting on his squeaky squirrel. "However geriatric and lump-like he is. And besides, you talked Mac into patching up that overgrown rat when you were ten. This thing should be a piece of cake."

"It was a baby possum," Sam clarified. "His name was Splinter. And your new dog's name is Boo. Boo Radley."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Tell that to Mac. Maybe he'll give you a mutual Scholar's discount for creativity."

Sam opened his mouth to argue further, but Caleb cut him off. "Just do it, Sammy. You and Boo both turn on the wounded puppy looks and Dad will tumble off his renowned neurosurgeon's pedestal and do his lowly veterinarian imitation. I need to talk to your brother."

"Whatever." Sam patted his leg for the dog to follow him. "Come on, Boo." The pup happily limped off behind the young hunter, Harper Lee waking long enough to join them, mound of gray knotted fur clasped firmly in his teeth.

"So." Dean looked at Caleb once they were alone. "You're still talking to me?"

Caleb made his way to the table, took a seat without answering.

Dean sighed, pulling out a chair for himself. He flipped the seat around, straddled it, resting his arms on the back as he regarded his best friend. "Or not." Dean wasn't used to Caleb being angry at him, or whatever the hell Damien was feeling towards him at the moment. He wished not for the first time that Caleb had embraced his inner bastard and decked him when he had the chance.

"She was pregnant."

It wasn't even in the same ballpark as what Dean had been expecting. For a moment he worried his confession had sent his best friend over some invisible edge. The unfamiliar, gut twisting look on Caleb's face told him it was something else entirely. "Say again."

"My mom was pregnant when he murdered her."

Dean's chest tightened, his mind taking an unwilling detour into his own past. A flash of his mom on the ceiling, the echo of her terror filled cries had him blinking. "Oh."

"I was only six, but I remember it. The sound of the waves-the smell of brine. The look on her face as she went down."

Dean cleared his throat. "You don't have to do this now, Damien."

Caleb held his gaze. "Yes, I do. I should have told you a long time ago…after the whole Wendigo incident." He took a quick breath. "My Dad and I were building this house of cards, which is pretty damn ironic if you think about it now, huh?"

Dean didn't say anything, unable to find any humor or mirth in the face of Caleb's pain.

"Anyway," Caleb continued. "We built this house and my mom decided it needed a family to be complete. So, I used cards from the deck to do the job. The King and Queen of Hearts for her and Dad, the Jack of Spades for me..."

Caleb hesitated and Dean struggled to help him along. "Black's a good color," he said.

Caleb's mouth twitched. "It's a mixture of all the colors actually."

"Good to know."

The psychic licked his lips, started the story again. "So Dad proceeded to dig through the pile, telling me I forgot one. He pulls out the Deuce of Spades..." Caleb studied his hands, twisted the silver ring on his finger. "I thought I was getting a dog for Christmas."

Dean watched him place his palms flat on the table, stopping the fidgeting motion. "But it turns out it was something even better."

He lifted his gaze to Dean. "They didn't know if Mom was having a boy or girl, so Dad picked the Deuce card, because it's always wild, anybody's guess. I slept with that damn card under my pillow, 

hoping…praying I'd get a little brother." Caleb swallowed thickly. "But instead everything was taken away."

"Caleb…"

"But then you showed up, and it was like another chance to get it right. I swore I'd watch out for you-that I wouldn't let anything or anyone hurt you."

Dean shook his head, hearing the guilt between the lines. "Dude, you didn't do anything wrong the first time. There was nothing you could have done to save your mom or the baby. You were just a little kid."

"You were just a little kid and you saved Sammy."

Dean opened his mouth unsure of a rebuttal, but desperately needing to say something to change the look on Caleb's face.

"I know it's not the same," Caleb said. "I know I'm not your brother. But you have to understand, Deuce, for the last twenty years, in every way that matters to me, you've been mine."

Dean didn't get a chance to refute Caleb's belief, an opportunity to tell him that it was the same for him. Before he could speak Damien's gold eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. "It's why I'm so fucking mad at you for lying to me. You should have told me that first night we were back here at the farm. Hell, you should have called me when Sam first disappeared."

Despite the wave of guilt the words brought, Dean was grateful for the more familiar 'good and pissed off' look Caleb was now sporting. Anger he could deal with, hurt he could not. "It wasn't a lie, exactly. More like need to know information." Surely Damien couldn't refute the code.

"If it concerns you and Sammy, then I need to know. If you don't respect the time we've spent together the last two decades, the friendship I thought we had, you better damn well respect my position as The Knight."

Dean shook his head. Besides Sammy, Caleb was the most important person in his life. He held their relationship sacred. "Dude, I didn't know how to tell you."

"You didn't want to tell me, Deuce. There's a difference."

"You're right," Dean said. "I didn't want to tell you." He might not have known the exact details of why Caleb called him Deuce, but he understood perfectly how Caleb felt about him. He'd used it to his advantage over the years, but never once did he doubt it or take it for granted. "I didn't want to disappoint you."

"Shit, Deuce." Caleb exhaled heavily. "You could never disappoint me. I've always been proud of you, fucking idiot. Nothing could change that." He reached out and wrapped his fingers around Dean's forearm. "You should have trusted me."

"I do trust you. I was afraid if you came…"

"That I would have stopped you."

Dean nodded. "That you would have at least tried." He had lost Sam and was in a dark place. He didn't want to lose Caleb too-to put him at risk.

Caleb ran a hand through his hair. "I sure as hell would have bargained for a better deal."

Dean quirked a brow. "It was better than the one Dad worked out. At least we still have a year together."

"You mean we have a year to get you out of this mess."

"Caleb…"

"Don't." Caleb held up a hand. "I won't risk Sammy. But you can't expect me to sit back and do nothing after what you did to save Sam. I'm not above using a little Jim Murphy logic either, Kiddo. From one big brother to another, you have to understand that."

"I can't be a part of it. I can't know anything about it."

"Like I said, Sammy and I make a good team." Caleb tightened his fingers, squeezing Dean's wrist. "You're going to be okay. I promise."

Dean wanted to believe that, but if losing his father and Sam, watching Gideon die had taught him anything, it was that there were no guarantees for a tomorrow. "Damien…about what you said earlier, about the whole 'Deuce' thing…"

Caleb released his arm, withdrew his touch as if he had been burned. "Enough confessions for tonight, Deana. I'm over the chick-flick drama."

"But…"

"You should go on upstairs, before Sammy tries to give Boo a bubble bath, or worse gives him your bed. I might have just proclaimed my undying fraternal love, Dude, but I'm not sleeping with you."

Dean stared at him, amazed that in one smart-assed comment, Caleb could return their equilibrium. "You let him bring the beast home. If he's taking anyone's blankets, it should be yours."

"I'm the oldest."

"That's so lame." He stood up, flipped the chair backed around and tucked it back under the table.

"But a classic."

"Whatever," Dean said, mimicking his little brother's acquiescence from earlier. He gestured to the pile of things Mackland had left. "But I have to put these in The Tomb first. Mac's already cracking down on The Guardian gig." Dean stretched out for the amulet and the journals.

Caleb waved him on. "Go ahead. I'll put them away for you."

Dean put his hands up, unable to resist the grin that slid across his face. "Is the big bad Knight going to come tuck me in too?"

"It's tempting; but so is the leash and tracking device." Caleb piled the journals neatly, placing a hand on them as if they were Bibles.

"Careful, Damien. That whole 'super sibling' mojo can make you do some crazy shit." Dean patted his chest.

"You would know, Captain One Helluva Big Brother."

"Damn straight." Dean nodded. "I wrote the book."

_RcJSnsnsnsnsNRcJ_

Caleb watched Dean go, waited until he heard the first stair creak before focusing on the items in front of him. He zeroed in on his great-grandfather's amulet. "That's why I hope you'll understand, Deuce," he said softly.

Caleb picked up the pendant, watched with resolve as the mottled metal turned new again with his touch. Clouded crystals glistened wet and shiny as fresh blood. Blackness rolled off the center stone like fog from a river, revealing the pulsing diamond below.

"I have to save you." Caleb fisted his hand over the amulet, wincing at the icy burn. He shoved it deep into his pocket. "No matter what it takes."

RCJ

A/N: Offerings and Takings by Tidia will start next week. It is a direct continuation of this story. Thanks for reading everyone. I always appreciate the reviews and the alerts. Thanks also to Lee, who let me borrow her 'embracing his inner bastard' from her story Isis's Dance.

**Special note: **After much groveling and pleading on my part, the lovely Tara has agreed to make a video for the end of To The Victor, seeing as how she was so kind to start this journey off by making one for the preview. It's called 'Broken' and should be up very soon at The Hunter's Tomb and on Sensue's wonderful site, The Triad. Keep an eye out! If you haven't see her vid 'To Save a Life' and Sensue's trailor for 'A Noble Obligation' they are definitely must sees! I am always amazed by the graphics, art work, and videos that so many talented people have contributed to this universe, breathing life into the characters.


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